Entwined
by SassySav
Summary: When a business trip goes wrong due to a severe car collision, Regina Mills is taken to a hospital where she is in the hands of their best doctor, Emma Swan. Her slow recovery back to health & the weight of guilt from the crash keeps her missing her young son. But with Emma by her side along the way, there's no doubt that fate brought them together.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** _ **So, I made a SwanQueen fic! I've been really wanting to for a while, & since my 'Dark Shadows' fic is slowly coming to an end I really wanted to write something I'm very currently interested in. This story is also on Wattpad, but I'm uploading them on here as well for people who don't have access, or do not use Wattpad. If you'd rather read it on Wattpad, my user is SavannahHBC :) This is only the first chapter, and I need all the feedback I can get! More reviews - the better! It's very short for me, and I am planning on making the next chapters longer! Please give me your feedback, and feel free to let me know what I need to improve on! Thank you, & enjoy :) **_

_"Do you have to go?"_ The eight year old pushed out his bottom lip, gently tugging on his mother's coat sleeve.

"I'm sorry Henry, I promise I'll be back in no time," Regina gave him a warm grin, grazing her thumb on his chin before standing upright and catching Granny in her line of sight, "He won't be much trouble. Thank you, for volunteering to watch him for a few days while I'm gone," She smiled softly at the small old woman behind the counter, "I despise unplanned business trips, especially one's so far from home." She glanced down at Henry, who was sat comfortably on a stool. He swung his legs back and forth, and focused on the bright colors that were illuminating from the jukebox.

"It's not a problem," Granny replied, resting a hand towel over her shoulder, "anything for the Mayor and her son." She forced a grin towards Regina, and continued to wipe the counter's clean. She couldn't complain about watching the Mayors son no matter how badly she didn't want to. If she did her pay would be taken away in a blink of an eye. It wasn't like she despised Henry's company, he was a wonderful child. It was Regina who she couldn't stand.

Regina's gaze met Henry's dark brown eyes once more, and she leaned over to give him a gentle hug. He squeezed her tight, not wanting to let her go. She basically had to pry him arms from her back, holding them tenderly at his sides as she kissed his forehead. He smiled, and tried to suppress a giggle.

"I love you, Henry," She said softly.

"I love you, too momma."

* * *

Business trips were never Regina's favorite, she hated to leave Henry back in Storybrooke by himself. Yes, he was with Granny or sometimes even with Mary Margaret, but she couldn't help being worried. After all she did create that town, it was fake. Nobody ever found it, it was meant to be that way. Sometime's she wondered if that town was even a curse at all. It didn't seem to hurt anybody, it took away everyone's memories and left them in a pretty nice and tidy town. Unlimited supplies of food, safety, homes, jobs, everything someone need's to survive. _What a curse._

Regina's instincts quickly swung her foot to the brakes, slamming on them with force. Her jet black Mercedes jolted to a stop, forcing her body to lurch forward a few inches and her back to slam back against the seat. Her train of thought took her away from reality once more, causing her eyes to completely miss the bright red light hanging above her Benz.

She took her shaky hands off the wheel and covered her face, trying to relax. A long exaggerated exhale escaped her lungs, as she looked back at the intersection in front of her. Cars bolted left and right, merely inches from her headlights.

 _Get your shit together Regina._ She thought to herself with a shake of her head.

She always did this whenever she left town. Her nerves would go haywire, and she would worry herself over nothing. But this was probably the worst it has ever been. This business trip was farther from home, about three to four hours from Storybrooke. Usually these things were only thirty to forty minutes away.

Who could blame her, she was a worried mom. Which wasn't such a bad thing, right? Henry may have been eight now, but it still gave her the right to worry about leaving her son in a made-up town full of fairy tale characters.

 _Oh, the irony_. She was the Evil Queen, the worst person to ever live in that town and she was the one having anxiety over a child. _Ha_. Never in a million years would Regina would of thought that she'd have a child of her own. He may of been adopted but he was still _hers_. He was her baby boy, and she couldn't wait to get back home.

 _This Evil Queen was pure evil, huh?_

A loud and sudden honk of a car horn brought Regina back into reality. She jumped in her seat, and reached up to position her rear-view mirror. A bright red jeep was inches from her bumper, with a man who seemed to be in his thirties in the driver's seat. His hand was repeatedly pushing down on the steering wheel, causing the loud honking that surrounded her ears.

"Let's go lady! Green mean's _go_!" He yelled, peaking his head out of the hole where a window was supposed to be. He was angry, she must've been there for some time because many others that were behind him were honking their horns as well.

 _Shit._ Regina re-positioned herself in her seat, and pressed hard on the gas. She turned to the right, into the correct lane trying to go quickly back onto her way.

There were many _, "Thank God!"_ and _"Finally!"_ comments as she turned, making her face turn hot in embarrassment. She hated making a fool out of herself, but she was quite used to it by now. Even in Storybrooke, people may have lost their memories but they still had this trigger of hate towards her. The first few days were amazing, with loving smiles and nods followed by hello, around every corner. But months after the curse, the same routine had bored her as did the people around her. Regina had gone cold once again, and the citizens learned to stay clear of her company. That was until she adopted Henry, many many years later.

It was only a few seconds after she had turned the corner, and only a few breaths were taken before a large navy blue truck came clear into her view. It's wheels were rolling quickly and to Regina's disappointment and shock - the truck was in the _wrong lane_. The truck was going no less than 60 mph, and was heading straight towards _her._

She didn't even have time to react, all she could do was grip the wheel and open her mouth to scream. But nothing had made it out in time. The truck tried to swerve away, but failed miserably. The last image, the last _thought_ that had popped in Regina's cluttered mind : _Henry._

Regina's Mercedes and the large truck hit head on. A noise like a building being destroyed into oblivion pierced through the air. It could've been heard miles away. Metal parts and glass that were instantly shattered hit the ground yards from the impact, and covered the road like ashes.

Cars stopped, and people covered their gaping mouths in shock. The man in the red jeep stopped feet from the wreck, and opened his car door. He planted his feet on the ground, crushing shards of glass and slowly took in the view. The front of the black Benz had been completely crushed, as did the front of the truck. Tires were rolling, metal was creaking and a horn was going on and on repeatedly. It looked like hell, as fire started sprouting from the crushed engine in truck. Smoke started to fill the air, and suffocate the bystanders around the disaster. The man staggered backwards away from the scene.

Sirens came into hearing distance, and slowly became louder and closer. Women cradled their children, shielding them from the smoke and the horrible tragedy that lied before them. There was no movement coming from inside of either cars, just the deathly silence and a car horn. Nobody could see anything, nor wanted to get a closer look.

 _All they know, was s_ _omeone was dead. Someone had to be dead._


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: This chapter is a tad bit long, but that's what I was planning on xD. Chapter updates won't always be this frequent, but I'm trying xD. I worked a full day on this chapter so I hope you'll like it. Also, please feel free to leave a review with some feedback, so I know what I'm doing right and wrong :) Thank youuu.**

 **-Sav**

I felt nothing but agony, like needles piercing every inch of my body. But the needles I felt, turned to knives... then swords, and chainsaws, as if they were cutting away every limb and bone from my body. The inability to move or even flutter my eyelids open for a moment made my skin crawl in fear and discomfort.

I felt hands linger around my body, pulling me free of whatever wreckage I was currently in. There was the warmth of forearms under my shoulders, wrapping around my body and fingertips gripping onto my sides.

 _Oh my god, my sides._

Every arm, every palm that made _any_ contact with any part of my upper body was nothing but excruciating and agonizing pain. Like my rib cage was falling apart, and my spine was being twisted and corrupted. I was incapable of feeling anything in my legs, or feet. Which gave me the relief of pain for the slightest moments, before horrendous thoughts started to manifest in my brain. _Paralyzed._ It was possible, but I quickly started to prod the thought from my head.

I felt my body slowly being wrenched from my cushioned seat, as fresh air reached my lungs and the soft hum of sirens met my eardrums. I was limp, my body weight being fully distributed into their arms. But, _I was alive_. Or maybe I wasn't, who knew what death felt like. But I surely didn't imagine it as this, filled with pain and hurt. I imagined it as freedom from any pain whatsoever, even emotional pain. Just the happiness and liberation from regret, emotion, and all torment. No matter what world or realm I lived in, I could never escape the sorrow that manifested in my dark heart.. even Storybrooke. I still didn't have a clue as to why I cursed everyone to such a town. It was clean, perfect, well-functional and took them away from their own suffering back in the Enchanted Forest. They lived in peace and prosperity here, with their families. Well most had their families, but they really should've been thanking me. Or at least that's what my heart felt, then again it was corrupted with darkness.

I don't regret much, even though I really should. I've killed, tortured, done the unimaginable, but I didn't regret one bit.

Because it got me my son, my Henry. The one soul in so many years that filled that small void in my heart of coal, with light. He was my light, my happiness... he kept me sane in that small town full of fairy tale characters who held their own personal sign of hatred towards me. I should've died, for all the things I've done - I really should have. That large blue truck should've killed me, stripped the life from my body... but it didn't. The reason? _I had no clue._

I felt the pressure of the cushion leave my spine as I was being hauled from the inside of the Mercedes. The foggy air that was once entering my lungs suddenly became cold and fresh. I didn't know if I was conscious, or just dead until I heard the pounding of my heart in my skull, and the feeling of my chest heaving up and down. My ears were welcomed with the commotion of nervous chatter, and police sirens.

My lungs felt tremendous pressure, as I tried to intake the smallest breaths possible. I felt trapped, like I was in a crater of torment with no possible way out. I couldn't move, all I could do was let the gloved hands carry my close to lifeless body to the help I needed. As soon as the pressure of the driver seat leave my spine, another weight was added. Strong arms cradled me for a short moment before I felt the rigid padding that resided on a stretcher meet my backbone. My head was rested gently on the stretcher as well, but was levitated up a slim amount. Only soft mumbling entered my ears, unable to interpret what the figures around me where saying. The compression of something strapping my body down was sudden on my chest and legs. _I could feel my legs._ I wanted to exhale a breath of relief but I was still unable to do anything but breath. And even that was still a horrid struggle. The presence of a light object cut off the fresh air, and substituted it with air that improved my breathing by a slight percent. It had a strap that wrapped around the backside of my skull with gentle pressure. Even the smallest things, like the grazing of a fingertip, felt like a dagger digging deep under my skin for something it wouldn't find.

There was this _sudden_ urge, this sudden need to move. Even the slightest bit, like the twitching of a finger, or the flexing of a foot. Then there was strength, that had built up so suddenly and hit me with this odd force. The weight that was dwelling on my eyelids slowly lifted. I took the risk, the opportunity and used that strength. Who knew you needed so much energy to open a _damn_ eyelid. I could've laughed at that thought on any regular day, but right now, that didn't seem like a likely option. Today wasn't just a regular day.

Then, out of nowhere, _I could see_. Light poured in from all sides, along with some shadows that hovered above me like I was a child being caught for taking the last cookie from the jar. My eyes stung, and started to water, or maybe they were tears. I couldn't tell the difference anymore. I blinked rapidly, and took in shorter, quicker breaths as the pain I was feeling became way more unpleasant than before. I was reconnecting with my limbs, my nerves. The agony that surrounded my body started to become unbearable, but I still couldn't move. A stifled voice broke through the rest, but this time I could point out a few words.

 _"She's conscious! .. Her lungs are failing, get these people back .. Her breathing is becoming more rapid, those lungs aren't gonna support themselves forever - quickly!"_

The voice came from a woman, she was a quick talker and I was guessing it wasn't because things were going dandy. I felt the stretcher rock underneath me, causing my rib-cage to feel as if it was shattering into oblivion and crumbling downwards, toppling onto my spine. I needed to gasp for air, but my lungs didn't seem to want to negotiate unless it was short rapid breaths. I saw the large white blurs of clouds above me pass by as the stretcher rolled towards the entrance of the ambulance. My hearing went in and out, and focused on certain aspects around me. First, it was a lady humming quietly to her wailing baby as they passed by trying to avoid the incident. Then, it was a man conversing with another. Something about watching the whole crash go down, and debating which driver held the blame. _Ugh._

Then, it was wheels? The stretchers wheels to be exact. Their squeaking was highly pitched, and was possibly the most distressing sound I've heard this entire time. The screeching from the metal wheels turned into a quiet hum, and the strength I once had began to fade away gradually. I felt like a battery being drained. My eyelids started to flutter, as I struggled to keep them open for any longer. A figure shadowed over me, and leaned down closely to my face. The space between us was dense, and compacted. I felt his breath on my neck, and his face came into view. The first clear face I'd seen for hours.

 _"We're loosing her!"_ He shouted up to the rest of his crew that were wheeling me quickly to the ambulance. I gave in, and let my eyelids close shut, letting myself be consumed by darkness. The gentle hum of the wheels continued, but slowly became louder as the seconds passed.

Then, there was light. A beaming luminescence that wasn't death, I knew it wasn't. There was the buzz of an air conditioner running that I had back at Storybrooke. I felt safe, like I was at home in bed just having a bad dream. With Henry attached to my side, because he still didn't like to sleep alone at night.

 _"Mommy, look!"_

There was a soft chuckle _, "I see that honey, but mommy has a surprise for you, too."_

It was my voice.

A scene appeared before me, or no, I wasn't there at all. It was a memory, a thought.

A no older than four - year old Henry sat on one of our old metal stools behind the counter. His feet dangled, swinging back and forth while he was currently focused on a coloring page in front of him. His little fist gripped a red crayon while he scribbled in the hat of a cartoon firefighter. He stuck his tongue out, biting it in concentration. There was shuffling coming from behind the counter, and a few seconds later I appeared. I had on my white apron, that had obviously been used. It was covered with blue icing, and powdered sugar. My hands reached behind my back to untie the strings, and remove the apron. I hung it on a small hook on the wall, right beside the refrigerator before I returned back to Henry who switched his red crayon with a yellow one to color in the rest of the firefighter. I rested my elbows on the counter, watching Henry enjoy his coloring time for a few more seconds. I reached over to his page, and tapped it lightly with the edge of my nail, catching his attention.

"Do you likes it, momma?" He asked, looking up at me with his few toothed smile that I loved.

I nodded softly, before grinning back at him, "I don't like it, I love it baby," I said before lifting his chin gently as he focused back on the firefighter, "Look what I made you." He giggled, and watched as I slid over a small plate that had a chocolate cupcake resting on it. It had bright blue icing, and white sprinkles. He wiggled in his seat overly thrilled.

"Happy Birthday, Henry." I smiled as his brown eyes lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July. _It was_ _his fourth birthday._ I slid the plate in front of him, carefully dragging the coloring page to the side to put it on the fridge for later. Along with the rest of his masterpieces he always gave to me. He completely ditched the picking up part of eating a perfectly good cupcake, and went straight to eating. He leaned over the edge of the counter, opening his mouth widely, to lick the icing on the top. Somehow his little hand slipped from where it was propped on the counter, and he went face first into the cupcake. I gasped, but as he pushed himself back up from the cupcake he was giggling uncontrollably. The blue icing got everywhere but his mouth. I laughed with him, as he took a finger and dragged it down his cheek, gaining a good amount of icing, and sticking it in his mouth.

"Dat's good!" He giggled, repeating what he had just done. I rose a brow, and took my own finger, grazing it on the tip of his nose where most of the icing was. He watched me, exploding with giggles and cackles of his own. I licked the icing off my finger, and shrugged sarcastically.

"It is, isn't it?" I smiled down at him, and he continued to lick the rest of the icing off the cupcake, "Oh! I almost forgot," I lifted a finger, and sped walked down the hall. The floor boards creaked and groaned as my walk turned into a slow jog. Henry turned around in the stool, and watched impatiently for a few moments before I came back down the hall, towards the kitchen again. He quickly turned his back, putting his focus back on the cupcake, acting as if he wasn't excited for the fun of it. I appeared at the entrance of the hall, with an object hidden behind my back. Henry turned back around, leaning side to side, trying to see what I was hiding. I stood at the door-frame of the hall, and swayed on my toes.

"You know that pretty blue toy truck you've been begging me for?" I tried my best to suppress a smile, but failed. He nodded enthusiastically, while carefully jumping off the stool. His tiny feet hit the ground with a gentle thud, before he shuffled up to me, grabbing my legs and trying to sneak a peak of what he knew I had. I kneeled down to his level, and bit my lip, "Close your eyes," I grinned. He did as I said, and even covered his eyes for me. I took the toy truck, and set it right in front of his teeny feet. A bright red ribbon was stuck on top of it, making the bright blue pop.

"Okay, you can open them now sweetie," I said, shifting on my knees. He swiftly put his hands back down to his sides, and his eyes fluttered open. He looked down at his feet, and locked his eyes on the truck.

"Yay!" He chanted, clapping his hands and bouncing up and down with joy, "Dank you, mommy!" He squealed, getting down on his own knees and pushing the truck back and forth. He made rumbling noises, as if the truck was actually driving, making a laugh escape my throat. The wheels on the toy squeaked loudly, causing a great deal of noise that echoed throughout the kitchen.

"We're going to have to get those wheels fixed, huh?" I grinned, tilting my head to the side, watching him play with his new toy.

It was dark again, my memory was done playing through, and I was regaining consciousness slowly but surely. My eyes shot open, and I couldn't help my gasp for air as all the pain I was feeling earlier hit me all at once. My body tried to lurch forwards, but the straps held me down, causing a horrid struggle. I was still outside, on that damn stretcher. I might have only been out for a few seconds, even if it felt like minutes. My vision was still hazy, but I could see the shadows of people as they turned towards me in surprise.

 _"Quick, she needs more oxygen. Damnit I told you, her lungs are collapsing, get her in the damn ambulance, now. We need to get her to Emma."_ The female voice was back, and the doors of the vehicle opened quickly. I was lifted and put inside the ambulance swiftly, and a few people followed me. They sat on each side of the stretcher, watching over me as I continued to fight for breath. Oxygen didn't seem like a possible solution, as my lungs failed me over and over. I balled my fists, and gritted my teeth. The light that was once pouring into the vehicle, disappeared as the doors of the ambulance shut with a loud bang. My chest felt like it was falling apart, like my ribs were being hammered at repeatedly. I felt my eyes start to roll in the back of my head, as I was loosing consciousness. I heard mumbling of chatter, which was the few people who had gathered in the back of the ambulance as well. I felt like I was going to _die,_ which technically I was, I didn't want to deny it anymore. But I had to, Henry couldn't be left without a mother. I wasn't going to let my son sit for months on end, waiting for his mother to come home.. when she never was.

 _I won't leave you Henry. I'll never leave you._

And I was left in the darkness once again.

* * *

The door of the hospital swung open, as a stretcher followed my a whole crew of people poured in. They were shouting and conversing all at once, causing everyone's attention to be locked on them. One of the women, a red-head, turned to a man who stood next to her in the group of people.

 _"Get Ms. Swan, now!"_ She hissed, turning back to the brunette who lied unconscious. The man took off somewhere down the long hallway, a few paces quicker than the crew of people rolling the stretcher. He searched only for a few seconds before he ran right into the doctor. She was just making her way to the commotion, with a clipboard in hand. Her green eyes darted back and forth between the man and the hall behind him.

"Ms. Swan, you have a patient - _quickly_ ," He turned back around, with her at his heels, "She has severe head trauma, collapsing lungs, broken ribs, a fractured spinal cord- _so much more,_ and she fell unconscious during the ride here due to the pain we assume, she was unable to _breath_ -" He was cut off, out of breath.

 _"Is that her?"_ She spotted the speeding stretcher that was rolling down the hall, and pushed passed the man. She quickly joined the crew of people, and they immediately started telling her stats, and the injuries that occurred to this woman. She cut off all the people with the swift movement of her hand, "She needs to be put into surgery _immediately,"_ she stated, before yelling orders to each of the men and women. As she finished, and they continued down the long narrow hall, she leaned down closer to the insensible Mayor.

"You're not going to die.. _I won't let you_. You just gotta help me out a little bit, you've got to fight. You've gotta have someone you need to fight for." She scanned the face of the woman, examining the cuts and bruises that were present on her features, "I'm going to save you, okay? No matter how long it takes, _I will save you."_


	3. Chapter 3

**/ before I start this chapter, I just wanna let you know : ITS REALLY LONG. Sorry that it took so long for an update, too. Like I said this chapter is pretty long, and I took a lot of time on it. FEEL FREE to leave reviews, and feedback :) I appreciate it! And also, I am by no means a surgeon, or in any medical things. So all the information I got in this chapter, is from articles I have found over the internet. So all this info, and words from those articles belong to their rightful owners, I take no credit for them :) So THANK YOU and enjoy this super duper long chapter :* /**

The glimmer and fluoresce from the moon shadowing through the windows settled on the tan and white tiles of Granny's diner. The quiet shuffle of clothing was one of the only sounds to be heard in the eatery, as Ruby scrubbed the tables clean like Granny had specifically ordered her to. Henry had his elbow propped up on the edge of the counter, his head resting gently in his palm, and watched the clock's hands remain where they were stuck. Every single clock that existed in that town were non-functional, or broken; nobody knew the reason behind it. Time was constantly stuck on 3:40, and wouldn't budge even the slightest inch. Henry groaned, turning in the squeaky four-legged stool, to face Ruby, who had a look of disgust as she wiped off spilled mustard from the table.

"Can I help?" Henry asked, tilting his head to the side, watching her toss the soaked rag into the trash bin with a thud, and grabbing another. She wiped her palms on her apron, and held a gag down before locking her gaze with Henry's.

She softly shook her head, "If Granny catches you doing any of my work, she'll ring my neck," she replied with a chuckle, "Plus, I'm sure you don't want to clean mustard stains and sticky food off of tables either. If you want to occupy yourself, don't do it with cleaning because trust me - you'll regret it kid."

Henry was silent, letting her words linger in the air like an odor that's difficult to get rid of. His hands traveled to the top of the cushioned seat, as he lifted himself off of the stool and planted his feet gently on the ground. He immediately started to head towards the front doors.

"Woah, kid what're you doing?" Ruby rose a brow, facing him.

He planted his palms on the glass doors, ready to push them open before he turned his head to look at Ruby, "I'm going home. I don't need a babysitter," he shook his head, agitated. Ruby furrowed her brow, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You're mom told us to keep an eye on you, Henry-"

"And I'll tell her you did," He cut her off, "I'll be perfectly fine at home by myself. I'm not a child," he huffed.

"Henry, you're eight... that's still a child in my book. And I mean that in the nicest way possible, but if you're mom finds out we let you sit home by yourself for almost a week without any supervision - we're dead." Ruby replied quickly, hoping to change the young boy's mind. But even she knew, he was hardheaded and wouldn't be persuaded easily. Just like his mother.

"I don't need someone to be watching me all the time, I can take care of myself. And if she asks, I'll just tell her you guys took super good care of me, and I had a great time," He took in a deep breath, before facing his attention back onto the glass doors, continuing to push them open swiftly.

"Kid - wait," Ruby sat the wet rag onto the half-cleaned table, and waltzed over, snatching her bright red coat from the hook on the wall. She slid into the warmth of the coat, and grinned down at the small boy, "I'll go with you then. If you're gonna go anyway, I might as well not let you walk alone," she nodded, pulling up the zipper and stuffing her fists into her pockets. Henry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but crack a soft smile back up at the waitress, before rushing out of the diner with her on his heels.

The harsh wind swept right through their clothing, and made their skin crawl with goosebumps and shivers. Henry's chin was quivering, and his body shook as another gust of wind came by. Ruby took a hand out of her pocket, holding her arm out for Henry. She tugged him close to her side, trying to keep him warm. Winter was approaching quickly, and the cold weather with it.

"You sure this is a good idea?" She asked, ducking her head down as more wind swept by. Henry shoulders rose in a shrug, and kept his gaze locked onto the large white house he called home, that was only a few more yards away.

"I do this all the time, yanno - while my moms gone. She tries to leave me with someone she thinks will keep me behaved, but I always end up convincing them to let me go home," he glanced up at the brunette, "usually I come up with excuses, like I'm not feeling well or something."

"Why didn't you try this time?" Ruby asked, her teeth starting to chatter.

"I knew you'd let me. You're not strict like all the adults in this town, you don't treat me like a child who needs daycare and baby proofed doors or whatever," he let a laugh escape, before frowning once again, "Do you think she's okay? My mom, I mean..."

Ruby knit her brow together, gathering her thoughts for a moment, "Why wouldn't she be? She goes on these things all the time," she snuck a peak at Henry, seeing his face droop as if he was worried, "Hey, listen. Whatever she's doing, she's fine. Okay? Like she said, she'll be back in no time." She got a better grip around Henry's shoulders, and shook him playfully, trying to ease his nerves. He was a really smart kid for only being eight years old, turning nine in less than two weeks. Either his mom taught him well, or their low budgeted school did. Ruby was going with his mother, considering she was the Mayor and she was basically hooked to his hip all the time. Wasn't that supposed to be the opposite?

"You're probably right," he exhaled and started to slow his pace as they approached the house, "I just... I have this feeling," he shook his head gently, and before he could speak again, Ruby cut him off.

"Don't worry, kid," she sighed, planting her feet on the ground right in front of Henry's home, "your mom's pretty tough, and kinda scary," she laughed, grabbing both of his shoulders, to face himself towards her, "nobody will wanna mess with her." Henry smiled softly, and seemed to wander in his mind once more before replying.

"Yeah... thank's Ruby," he nodded up at her, before taking a few steps back and slowly making his way up to his from porch.

"Be careful, kid.. okay? And if you have any problems, call Granny's?" Ruby's voice was gentle, and concern took over. Henry turned to face her for a slight moment, with a grin.

"Got it. And by the way, you can call me Henry, right?" He giggled, not waiting for that obvious answer to his question, and continued his way up the sidewalk and to his doorstep. Ruby rolled her eyes playfully at the young boy, and lingered there for a moment, making sure he got into the house safely. He twisted the doorknob, and his gaze met hers one last time before the door swung open and he disappeared into the mansion.

* * *

I closed the large white door quietly, an old habit of mine. My mom never did like when I slammed it shut, in a hurry or not, she always scolded me for it afterwards. Silence devoured me, but in a comfortable way. I reached my arm to the side, blindly searching the switch to turn on the lights. My fingers crept up the rough wall, until they met a smooth - like rectangular switch. I flipped it on, and the darkness was gone. The hall before me lit up in a yellow glow from the lightbulb that was hung on the ceiling. I let out a sigh, finally home. I lifted my left foot up, untying the laces and setting the shoe by the door. I did the same with the right. Another thing my mom didn't like; muddy shoes - or any shoes in the house. Or maybe just mine, because she knew I was constantly playing and running around in the dirt and grass.

Memories started to flood my brain, and I quickly shook them away. Mom. I didn't really know what was going on in my head, but it was like this trigger, warning me. I might've been going crazy, or maybe I was as sane as I've ever been. But, my heart ached and I wanted to see my mom. She told me ages ago, that I was adopted. She thought I deserved to know, and to her surprise.. I took it well. I didn't really feel anything, I was happy. I had a family, and that was all that I really cared about. Of course, some thoughts like to ponder into my mind like parasites and try to pry away all my good ones. But I'm usually really good at not letting them win. Whenever people in town say, I'm a strong kid for only being eight; I tell them, I'm not strong. I don't have anything to be strong about, just my family. My mom. I think every kid should be like that.

My feet slowly took me to the staircase, that led up to my room. The floorboards creaked and groaned under my weight, with each small step I took up the stairs. My palm found the railing as the light from the hall started to fade, and soon I was left trailing up a staircase with no light. I knew this house like the back of my hand, but light switches - were not my forte. I felt the hardwood floor appear beneath my feet after a few more steps, and reached my arms out in front of me. Suddenly I found the wall, and frantically searched for another switch. After a few moments of my utter and useless panic, I found it and flicked it up with the tip of my finger. My eyes were no longer blind, and I rolled my eyes at myself. I really was a child. I slid on the wooden floors with the pair of socks I still had on my cold feet. I slid all the way to the entrance of my room, and flipped another light switch. I hated a dark house, so whenever my mom was gone or out of town, I'd practically turn on every light known to man that existed in this household.

The room became illuminated with a bright glow, and I could see every nook and cranny from every side of my room. My bed was positioned to my right, centered perfectly in the middle of the wall. I had a pile of stuffed toys in the corner to my left, with dinosaurs, dogs, lizards, any animal you could think of resided in that pile of stuffed cotton. I had a chest, that was at the end of my bed and was overflowing with my other gizmos. Tiny plastic arms and legs stuck out the sides, that belonged to my superheroes and villains. The artificial legs and arms made the top of the chest elevate, revealing the rest of the clutter of playthings. A ray of light sparked my interest, as something from inside the chest started to shine from the bulb. I knitted my brow together, and gradually made my way to the dark brown trunk. As I kneeled down, my fingertips met the hard wooden surface and curled under the opening, lifting the top off. Colorful and bright toys came into view as they were illuminated by the light. Familiar faces, and funny memories came back to me. I hadn't been in this thing forever, mostly because I liked going outside more. I rested the lid against the board at the end of my bed, and quickly started to rummage through the trinkets.

My hand had caught a wheel, and pulled it free. It was connected to a big toy truck, that emerged freely from the cluster. It's hard surface glistened a bright blue, and made the corner of my lips curl up in a smile. I remembered this. This truck, was a gift from my mom, the best gift I had ever gotten because I had wanted it for so long. The constant begging, and sobbing in the aisle ways at the store paid off when she set the truck in front of me. I may have been only four, but I still remembered. That day was a memory stored away for safe keeping, and I planned to keep it that way. I took the car, and set it gently on the ground. I nudged the back end of the truck with my palm, and it started to roll to my left. I then nudged it back, just going back and forth, with a stupid grin on my face. There was the creak of a floorboard.

"Nice rig you got there." I thrusted my body around, facing the source of the voice, and found a tall man standing calmly in the doorway, "It's a bit ironic actually." He took a step forward, but you could obviously see that he had a limp to his step. I started to pull myself back, away from the strange man, with my breath heavy and my heart beating like it was trying to escape.

"Hey, Henry, calm down kid," he chuckled softly, like he was amused by my fearful stricken face. A lump formed in my throat, and I couldn't talk. Nor did I want to, I didn't know this man. How did he get here? How did he know my name? I locked the door right? So many questions started to swirl around in my mind at once, more than I could handle. When the man noticed my absence of voice, he stuck his hand out as if he had expected me to shake it.

"The name's August," he said, forcing a grin down at me. Once he realized I wasn't going to accept his offer to shake his hand, he put his arm back down to his side, "You don't have to be afraid of me Henry, I'm only here to help." He exhaled, and took a quick glance around my room before looking back at me, "Sorry, I kinda let myself in," he shrugged, like it was no big deal that he: a random man just waltzed into someone else's home. I didn't have words to speak, like my vocal cords wouldn't cooperate. I sat there, on the dark wooden floors, my mouth hanging open, like an idiot.

"..How... do you know my-name?" I stuttered out, raising a brow up at the man. He shifted on his feet, and lifted a finger.

"Boy, do I have a story for you, kid," he smiled, and lowered himself to the ground, to sit. The boards beneath him groaned under his weight, and his shoes squeaked as he sprawled his legs out in front of himself. I pushed myself up, to sit straight and face the so called 'August' while he got himself comfortable on the floor.

"Are you.. a friend of my mom's or something? I've..-never seen you around town before," I swallowed, my voice shaky.

"No no, but I have an idea she knows me pretty well," he chuckled softly, but his laugh turned into an eery silence as his gaze caught mine, "I need your help Henry. But first, I have some explaining to do, and you've got to listen carefully. It'll sound crazy, but I have a feeling you'll understand quite quickly," he flashed a gentle grin at me, and rested his arm on his bent knee.

"..What?"

He seemed to deflate, and let out a long exaggerated breath. Like he gave up his act of mister nice guy, "Henry... your mom may not be home as quickly as she said she would be, okay?" He furrowed his brow, and studied my face carefully, as if waiting for my reaction, "But I assure you, she'll be fine-"

"What happened?" My tone was the complete opposite of happy, or pleased.

"Henry, I-"

"What happened."

He squirmed, and itched the top of his head, "..She, got into an incident-a, uh-accident, kid. But like i said, she'll be fine." My face felt hot, but my body felt cold. The anger and sadness whirling inside of me seemed to build up by the second, my hands twitched at my sides.

"You're lying." There was a sudden change in my voice, hurt. The tears that swelled in my eyes threatened to spill over and stain my cheeks. August shook his head calmly, like he knew i'd react like this. I mean, why wouldn't I? She was my mom.

"Kid-"

"My name is Henry, not kid, not boy. Henry." I cut in.

"Henry... I told you, it sounds crazy - but, I swear to you, she's fine. She's on the correct path, so is Emma-"

"Emma? Path? What're you talking about?" My sadness turned into sarcasm, and even more anger than before, "You're crazy." I shook my head, practically yelling at this stranger now.

"Like I also said, I have a lot to explain to you ki- Henry," he rose a palm, as if it would calm me down in my rage and panic, "Just please, listen."

* * *

"She need's stabilized, quickly."

"On it."

Emma pulled the tight, rubber gloves past her fingers and over her freshly cleaned palms. Nurses, and fellow doctors shuffled around the small operating room, prepping the Mayor for surgery. They pierced her skin with needles, and dashed to machines. Their fingers pushed buttons, and activated the devices that surrounded them to show the patients stats. Her fingers wrapped around the fabric of a surgical mask and wrapped it around the bottom portion of her face. The strings on the sides of the mask, swaddled comfortably around the back of her ears to keep it positioned and put on her face. Her body was dressed in light blue scrubs, prepared for the operation.

Emma turned, to face the unconscious patient, her eyes scanning the woman carefully. She was deathly pale, in comparison to the dark, dried blood that resided on the cuts on her face and the gash on her forehead. A nurse in the room came over, and started to mend the cuts and gashes heedfully. People continued to rush around her, and converse orders to one another; but Emma stayed put, watching the mayor with curiosity. Her gentle features stood out, and framed her face together like a work of art, even in this event of dismay. Gosh, she was so-

"Ms. Swan, she's ready." Emma's head jerked up, her eyes meeting one of the other nurses in surprise. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts, before she replied back.

"Okay- thank you," she gave a soft nod towards the nurse, before staggering over to the operating table where the brunette lied. Her hands rose to cup the sides of her own head, trying to think and get this procedure over with and this woman saved.

Get your head together, Emma. Don't mess this up, you never mess up. You can save this woman's life, like the many before her.

She reassured herself. She was never nervous before an operation, it just came naturally to her and she was good at it. Great, actually. The best surgeon in that groggy hospital. That didn't pay as much as she'd like for saving people's lives, but it worked.

"..O-Okay, there is lack of oxygen to her right lung. I need to insert a chest tube, to reduce the pressure, and get the oxygen flow back to normal," Emma sighed, giving glances to everyone around her before they started to quickly gather everything she needed. She rolled her shoulders, trying to relax the tension in her muscles for the brief moment she had. Every noise around her turned into a soft hum, and the only sound that could be heard was the beeping of the heart monitor. Her eyes locked onto the sharp waves on the screen, that continued up and down with the passing seconds, before every noise poured back in. The clanging, and shuffling filled the silence, and nurses surrounded her - stacking the tools she needed on the table next to her. A long exhale escaped her lungs.

"Let's do this..." she whispered quietly to herself.

Her brain automatically started working, as did her hands with it. Her palms wrapped around the woman's upper and lower arm, lifting it gently above her head. So she could find the correct placement to put the tube. Which would be at "The Triangle of Safety". It would lie between the fourth and fifth intercostal space and anterior axillary line. Emma's fingers traveled to the Mayor's upper chest, by the collar bone and started to search and locate the clavicle. Once she found it, she started to count the rib numbers, as her fingers cor versed down the anterior chest wall. Then, once she found the correct intercostal space her fingers then started to travel laterally towards the anterior axillary line. That's where she finally found the spot to start the incision, and where to insert the chest tube. She then quickly grabbed a pen, marking the spot. She sterilized a large area, including the incision spot and had the rest of the nurses and doctors cover up the patients body, expect the procedure side. She inserted a few needles, that were necessary, quickly yet gentle. Her hand snatched a scalpel from the metal cart that resided next to her, and went to work. She made an incision approximately 1.5 to 2 centimeters in length, then took a curved tool to dissect through tissues and get above the rib to the lung.

Emma glared at the open incision and took in a small breath before taking her index finger and pushing down into the open wound. She pushed gently to penetrate the plural space, and twisted her hand around a few times to make sure her finger punctured through. Once her finger exited the wound, a thin fluid started to egress. Emma sighed with relief, that fluid was a sure sign she got through the plural space. She was one step closer the fixing this damn lung. She was handed a tube, which she fluently started to guide into the incision and into the lung smoothly. Her fingers moved steadily as she punctured the skin around the wound with a string, to secure the tube in place. For the slightest moment, her eyes glanced to the woman's pale face before her. She could see the shallow breaths the Mayor was taking as the mask on her face fogged up every few seconds, and she grinned. Knowingly that she could save this woman, and get her back to wherever she came from.

"Ms. Swan," A voice broke through her barrier of silence, and she glanced over to see a nurse handing her bandages to dress the wound. She took them carefully, and gave a soft nod to the woman before gently covering the incision. You did it Emma. She let a breath of liberation escape and blew a strand of loose hair from her face, before letting her body tense up once again. The blood pumping through her veins and the rapid beating of her own heart didn't help her stress level. The brunette before her was in critical condition, and the heart inside her chest wasn't beating nearly as fast as it should. But Emma had something every person needed every once in a while. Hope. And with that hope, she'd save this woman. Her lungs were now functional, and kept her breath constant and flowing from her lips. That's all Emma needed.

"The bottom portion of her ribs are fractured, get me some plates and screws. I'm going to have to make a large incision - maybe even a few, to insert the metal plates and then hold the bone and plates together with the screws, quickly." Emma calmly ordered them, her palms gripping around the edge of the operating table as she leaned forward softly. As the people scattered, she slanted closer to the Mayor.

"We've come this far, so you keep on fighting. I'm not loosing you now, okay?"

* * *

"So I'm supposed to believe that everyone in this town are fairy tale characters?" Henry rose a brow at August, who sat leaned against the wall, across from Henry. He tossed a small red ball up and down, catching it swiftly in his large palm.

"It's a long shot, but - yeah," August nodded softly, as his eyes landed on Henry once again. Henry unfolded his hands, and held them out, motioning for the ball. August tossed it once more before lightly throwing it across the room towards into the boys palms.

"..and that this town _really_ isn't a town at all?" Henry's voice went up a pitch in confusion, and surprise. Just learning that everything you'd ever known was a lie, and you were supposed to believe it from a random man, was a bit of a shock. Especially if you were only eight, or even if you were expected to still believe all those tales of princesses and evil queens who just wanted their revenge on something ridiculous. Henry crossed his arms, and squinted his eyes to try to intimidate the man, "Still. Who's the Emma woman?" He asked, still lusting for answers about this weirdly important lady. August seemed to shrivel up like a grape gone bad, and kept his mouth shut. But all of that tension, and awkwardness went down the drain in a mere second before he started to speak once again.

"She's someone vital to you, and your mother's story Henry. She's sort of what you call a Savior, and will help a lot of people. Even if she doesn't believe it at first," the soft shaking of his head, and the eyes glued on Henry made it pretty clear.

"I'm supposed to help her believe, aren't I?" The small boy spoke up, and exhaled deeply. This 'August' didn't just come to help him believe, it was also for the 'Emma' girl, too. "So does this mean she'll be coming to this fairy tale infested town, too? With my mom?" He asked, bouncing the ball he had gripped in his fist back to August.

August caught it with ease, and shrugged with a smirk present on his face, "Maybe, kid." Henry's face dropped in irritation at the word 'kid'. Everyone called him kid, and he couldn't stand it most of the time. They knew he had a name, right? He made an exception for Ruby, and even Dr. Hopper. They were some of the people he was closest with, and actually listened to him. His mother called him Henry, but she was strict. He was constantly under supervision, and she never let him go anywhere without herself glued to his side. Secretly he liked his mother being so clingy, it meant she loved him and she cared for him. And after she had fessed up about Henry being adopted, he appreciated it even more. But every once in a while, when he was left with Dr. Hopper or Ruby, he enjoyed the freedom to go and do whatever he pleased.

August chuckled softly, "Sorry. I mean't 'Henry', it's just a habit I guess."

"Are you close to Emma, like... do you know her?" Henry asked, curiously. This man seemed to know everyone, but didn't give any explanation as to how. All he had told Henry so far was that everyone in this town was cursed and couldn't remember who they were back in another land. And that someone had cursed them, but August wouldn't spill that either.

"I guess you could say that. I sorta had to help her on her path... she was lost for a while. I just assisted her a bit, back onto the right lane." He threw the ball back at Henry gently, "Listen, if you want answers you need to find something. Something that'll help you with all those doubts you're having, and make you believe once and for all." He nodded, and shot a grin at the boy.

"What is it?" Henry imagined some sort of quest, like in the movies. Like he'd be going to save the world, and humanity itself. But with August's next two words crushed any world saving vision in Henry's mind.

"A book."

" _A book_?"

"Not just any book Henry, it's the book that'll give you you're answers."

"And where would I find it?" A book, of course. Reading. It wasn't all that bad, but he was really hoping for an adventure with a cool side kick and fighting enemies. But if it gave him the answers he wanted, and proved that this guy wasn't crazy, then he was up for some reading.

"Snow White should be the one to have it," August laughed, amused by his own inside jokes. He shook his head once he calmed himself down and took in a deep breath, "Mary Margaret, your teacher kid."

"She's _Snow White_?" Henry questioned, a bit excited that all these years he was being taught by the famous Snow White, but immediately buried his grin. He didn't believe this man. For all he knew, August could be a runaway from a mental hospital, and just broke into a random kids home looking for things to steal. Or a place to sleep.

"That she is. I'll be back tomorrow, kid." August stood up, leaning his body weight against the wall to steady himself, "By then I hope you know what you believe and what you don't." He limped his way over to the open door, and looked over his shoulder.

"I'll be prepared for some scolding and displeasure."

* * *

"How is she?" Emma spun to face the closing hospital doors to the operating room in surprise, finding a tall, dark-haired man, waltzing towards her. He tugged on the collars of his lab coat, and pulled on the rubber gloves that covered his palms.

"Dammit Jefferson," She exhaled heavily, and glanced down to her blood covered gloves. The woman's rib cage was near fixed & ready. Jefferson had been almost two hours late, and was supposed to be helping her with this certain procedure. But she couldn't wait any longer, or her ribs would've collapsed completely.

"Sorry. Better late than never, huh?" The right corner of his lip curled in a smirk as he approached the blonde. His left palm extended and planted itself gently on the midsection of her back, involuntary. Emma shifted a bit, to pull herself away from his touch and shook her head as she looked back down at the procedure she was still currently doing, "Seem's like you got this Swan. Looks like you didn't need my help after all." He put his arm back down to his side, used to the rejection by now. His fingers wrapped tightly around the bottom of his left glove, and pulled it off swiftly with a snap.

"How about you do me a favor, and hand me that screw, connoisseur." She couldn't help but crack a grin at the guy. She'd known him the entire time she had been in that hospital, and despite all of the flirting and 'mister know it all' bullshit - he was kinda fun. One of her best friend's actually, who still thinks he can get farther than a friend. But that would never happen, and even he knew it. Regardless of all of his hilariously failed attempts.

"So now we're using big words, chickadee?" He rose a brow, and grasped his gloved hand around the small screw and handing it briskly at Emma. Another thing with Jefferson; he loved nicknames, especially with Emma. Considering her last name was Swan, he was fond of coming up with other replacement words for her. Such as, dove, chickadee, dodo, buzzard, and so many that everyone had lost count years ago. He even called their boss, President non compos mentis. Which meant President crazy, but everyone always had a good laugh about it anyway. Emma rolled her eyes, and continued with the procedure.

"Is that the classic Synthes Rib Matrix?" Jefferson hoisted himself up onto one of the counters that resided only a few feet away from the surgery.

The blonde chuckled softly, "Yep. Just like how I was taught, sir know it all." She had fun with nicknames, too. It was something she picked up from Jefferson when they first met, it sorta spread to everyone close to him. Like some sort of disease; nobody ever really hears their real names anymore.

"Well, dove - sir know it all has a question for you," Jefferson pointed a finger at her and smiled before glancing down at the injured woman. Emma nodded, and took a moment to gaze at him and take her tired eyes away from the blood and gore before her, "Why do you wanna save her so badly?"

Emma became immediately perplexed, and knit her brow together as in, 'What the hell are you talking about?' But Jefferson didn't seem to get the hint at all, "It's a human life, Jefferson. I can't just let somebody die on my watch - or anyone's!" She snapped at him, as if she was being insulted. He rose his hands up, as saying he surrendered. But as his hands went back down to grip the edge of the counter, his eyes lingered for a moment. If it wasn't for the bright lamp's surrounding her and her work area, he could've missed the pink rising in her cheeks. No, it wasn't embarrassment. Why would she be embarrassed for admitting she just wanted to save people's lives? No, this was something bigger and more sweet. Emma took a short glance up at Jefferson, and noticed his loitering gaze back at her.

" _What_? Would you rather have me let her die right here? And tell her family that I just gave up on her?"

"I would rather you tell me the truth, Swan-" he grinned, seeing past her walls that she was struggling to keep up.

"I am, she's just a patient that I have to save. She would want me to save her-"

"Her name is Regina. Regina Mills, and she's the mayor of a small town called Storybrooke some while from here. Did you know that?" Jefferson clenched his jaw, and folded his pale hands in his lap. Emma shook her head, and looked at him bewildered.

"W-Why are you telling me this, I-" A long stretch of a sharp noise started to screech through the room. Both of their necks snapped towards the heart monitor, that was showing her heart rate slowly perishing into just a flat line, " _Shit_!"

Jefferson leaped from the counter top, and rushed to the machine, checking anything that could've possibly gone wrong at that moment. His fingers darted to buttons, and turned back to the panicking blonde trying to calm her shaky hands enough to fix whatever had happened.

"It's her spine-" Emma wheezed out, as her hands searched for something on the metal wheeled table next to her hip, "It's swelling - how did I not fucking see this," her fingers finally wrapped around a small circular tube with a long and keen needle at the end. She flicked it twice, and immediately started to puncture the woman with it. The fluid inside slowly vanished from inside the needle, and Emma swiftly pulled the needle back out, dropping it on the tray quickly. Nurses started to rush through the doors, their shoes tapping the ground simultaneously as they approached the now 'under control' scene. Emma wiped her forehead with her forearm, and exhaled the deepest breath she had ever taken. She was possibly holding her breath the entire time. Beads of sweat dribbled down her cheeks, and her body shook - she had never been that nervous over something so simple and easy to fix. But after all, she had made this woman a promise. Regina, was her name?

The heart monitor started to beep once again, giving Jefferson and Emma a moment of relaxation and peace. The blondes eyes made their way to Jefferson's, and after a few short nervous breath's Emma spoke.

"It's going to be a stressful ride, Jefferson. And this time," she paused as she shook her head, "I'm not lying."

* * *

The occasional tap of my foot hitting the marble floors didn't ease my stress as much as I'd hoped. My blonde curls that flowed over my shoulders, and down my torso became unbearable and suddenly too uncomfortable as I focused my mind on it. I flipped the curls over my shoulder, and leaned against the unpigmented walls with my arms crossed over my chest. I was relieved to be out of those lab coats, and skintight rubber gloves that weren't even near pleasant. But my mind was still stuck on moments that didn't need to be there, and feelings I didn't want to feel. On top of all that cluttered mess, was stress I didn't want to stress about. That was my life I guess, and I had to deal with it on the daily because if I didn't - who would? The soft shuffle of clothing started to make it's way towards me, causing my head to shoot up and look to the direction of the footsteps. Jefferson strolled towards me, with his hands in his lab coat pockets, and a content look masked over his face.

"So?" I lifted my leaning body from the cement walls, and turned to completely face him. I rose my brow, and my mouth instinctively parted open waiting for his return of voice.

"There's nobody. I literally couldn't find one person to call, or talk to. She has no family," he shrugged, looking down at me with a tad of disappointment.

"Nobody? Not even a sister, a mom, a dad possibly?" I rose my shoulders, confused. Why wouldn't this woman have any family. Well, I didn't have any family - but this lady. Regina - she was, or she seemed like a good person. She had to know someone, right? Someone she was even remotely close to? Even I had that. Jefferson shook his head side to side, and looked down at his feet as he rocked on his toes.

The door to Regina's room resided just a foot next to me. I was waiting to at least say hello, and make sure she was doing alright. My green eyes started to wander, and eventually made there way to the door that belonged to the Mayor's room. They lingered there for a moment, and scanned the room number over and over again. 108.

"Yanno, you still never answered me," Jefferson's voice broke through the silence I had isolated myself to, and my head snapped back to gaze at him once more.

"What?" I squinted my eyes, and tilted my head to the side.

"Why you wanted to save her so badly, Emma. You're usually so professional with these sort of things, but this time - .. you freaked, like that was your mother in there or something."

I didn't know how to react. I wanted to scream, and I wanted to cry. But the reason's why I wanted to do either of those things, I couldn't tell you. Because I didn't even know myself. The fact that he referred to some random woman as my mother, possibly. He knew I was an orphan, and that I basically spent my childhood going from foster home to foster home. I didn't expect him to blurt something out so strange and - to me - offensive.

"I-" I stuttered, before the door behind me swung on it's hinges as it opened. I turned around, finding one of the nurses appear from the room where Regina was resting. She shot a grin at me, and nodded.

"She's awake... you can go in now."

I felt my heart jump in my chest, or maybe it was just beating... a little too fast. I've done this before, I've seen every patient I've ever saved after their surgery. What made this time any different? The fact that I saved this woman when she was so close to death? Or maybe-

I drew my mind away from my thoughts, and thanked the nurse before walking into the room with shaky legs. My limbs felt so limp, and weak - and my heart felt as if it was a hammer trying to break free of my ribs containing it. I was Emma Swan, a strong and tough woman. I didn't get scared, or panic - at least not in front of people anyway. But this time - it was... different? I grasped my hands together, and fiddled with my thumbs as my eyes gazed upon the brunette slowly regaining consciousness. She had a hospital gown on, but a thick cast underneath. Only covering her torso - right above her hip, and up to her chest, wrapping around tightly. I managed to keep the chest tube in, through the cast and comfortable for her. Butterfly bandages were scattered on her face, to close the small open cut wounds that resided there. Her left foot was in a cast as well, as it had been crushed from the impact and the front of her car caving in from the crash.

"Uh..-are you in any pain?" My voice gradually became louder, but cracked horridly. The brunette rose an arm and put a and to her head before carefully lifting her eyelids to reveal her dark brown eyes.

"..No," she shook her head gently, her voice groggy and weary sounding.

I started to slowly inch my way over to the bed-ridden woman, with a smile plastered onto my face like an idiot. I couldn't help it, or contain it no matter how hard I tried. I bit the corner of my lip, and seemed to tower over Regina. My shadow fell over her like a blanket.

"So.. uh, we tried-finding someone to call for you..." I nervously glanced down at her before I finally gave up and gazed at her, "but, we couldn't find anybody to call. Do you have any family, o-or friends?" I stuttered, still fiddling with my hands wrapped around my stomach.

She shook her head once more, and cracked a grin right back up at me, "I'm kinda a loner." But as soon as those words escaped her lips, her eyes seemed to light up like a child seeing their presents on Christmas day.

"H-Henry, my son," she exhaled, planting her palm on her forehead, "I'm supposed to be on a business trip, I'm supposed to be home in a few days. What is he going to think when I don-"

"Hey, hey now..." I lower myself down to her level, and place my hand over her resting one, on the edge of the mattress, "Don't worry, we'll figure something out.. does he have anything we can contact him with..?"

"No... I just- I need to get home..." Her voice dragged on, getting weaker. She lifted her palm from under mine, into the air. But before she could try anything, or - before I could even think for myself, I quickly gripped her hand, holding it in my own. Her hands were cold, and felt so fragile in mine. She instantly quit struggling to get up, and turned her head to looked directly at me. Her dark eyes studied mine, but in a gentle way. It was relaxing, and...

"You just need to rest for a bit, okay? I think after hours of surgery you and I both need a break," I giggled, still holding her palm in mine, without even realizing it. Regina seemed to unwind the tension she was holding in her body, and relax into the sheets and pillows beneath her. She took in a deep breath, and smiled lightly at me.

"I guess we haven't been properly introduced," she forced a raspy chuckle back, "I'm Regina.." she took another breath, and glanced up at the ceiling, "Regina Mills." Her voice sounded congested, but it was still the most soothing voice I had ever heard. I had almost forgot to introduce myself.

"Emma Swan," I grinned, taking the hand I was already holding and shaking it in a gently gesture.

"It's nice to meet you Ms. Swan."

"The pleasure is mine, Madam Mayor."


	4. Chapter 4

The orange and yellow glow of the sunrise radiated it's light onto the small town of Storybrooke. The municipality slowly awakened to life as the sun did, and birds chirped their soft hum as they always did at this hour. This might've not been the liveliest town, but it sure was peaceful. Especially for morning walks, or a quiet place just to clear your head once in a while.

It was Sunday, no school, no bus to run to because you woke up later than you expected, and no waking up before the rest of the world did. But today, it was different. I chose to get up early, because I knew Mary Margaret was always at the school readying for the week at this time. She was quite the strategic type, and a morning person. You'd constantly catch her admiring the facade that lied beyond her classroom window, no wonder though. Every animal in the universe praised her, they weren't even the tad bit afraid of approaching her. While I couldn't even get a bird to land in my yard, she had them perched in rows up and down her arms like trained pets. I didn't get her, but she sure got me. Like she'd known me for my entire life - well, she has. Her and my mother didn't get along very well, and I never really knew why. Mary Margaret was kind, and possibly had one of the biggest, most giving hearts a person could possess. I've tried to confront my mom about it, but she pushed the question out of her way and continued with her busy day. Filled with papers, and phone calls. It just didn't make any sense to me, but I learned to live with it. Like her scolding Mary Margaret on the phone was a regular thing, for whatever she had done this time.

I approached the doors that led into the small school building. I leaned in towards the dark windows, and cupped my hands over my eyes to try and peek into the empty halls. There was a dirty mop leaned against the wall, but no janitor in sight. Nothing but uncleaned floors, and empty rooms. My palm wrapped gradually around the polished handle, and twisted it open with ease. The large door creaked and groaned as it slowly swung open on its hinges. The groggy smell of old peanut butter sandwiches, and floor polisher swept it's way over to me and filled my nose. I held back a gag, and collected myself before taking a few steady steps into the building. There was a squeal of a mouse, and tiny nails hitting the marble floors as it scurried away. From outside, the view of the school was magnificent - it looked like a child's dream school. But once you took a foot into the edifice, the interior looked like something not so abandoned, but manifested with nothing but old walls and rooms that were due for a cleaning. We never had an inspector, or the town sheriff come in and inspect the place. It was just... there. There was no need to, I guess. Not even the parents of all these children were worried, except mine. Of course, a Mayor is supposed to worry about the cleanliness of her town, but the school was something else. Probably because I was there most of the day, and she wanted me to be safe and spotless 24/7. I didn't complain though, she cares. I usually just shrugged it off. That's what mothers were supposed to do right? Worry?

My sneakers screeched and scraped down the hall, the noise of rubber hitting marble echoed through the premises and caused the hair on my neck stand straight up. The luminescence of the sunrise poured through the cloudy windows, and shadowed onto the floors with a soft glow. This place didn't get much sunlight, mostly because our janitor didn't know how to scrub some windows once in his life.

There was the soft hum of a voice, a beautiful voice. It rang, and bounced off the walls surrounding my ears and it was actually quite pleasant. I knew that voice anywhere, everyone did. The womans voice was gentle, yet so powerful with emotion and warmth. No wonder animals liked her so much. The singing came from a few doors down the hall, which gave me the comfort of not having to search the entire school for her. My feet carried me all the way down to the large cracked open door.

I rose my fist to knock lightly on the wood, but paused as the singing turned into talking.

"Come in, Henry." Mary Margaret turned her body to face the door, as I softly pushed it open to enter the small room.

" How'd you-" I was cut off, with the shake my head.

"I could hear your sneakers a mile away," she grinned, a soft chuckle escaping her throat, "What do you need?"

I stayed silent, surprised by the fact she obviously knew I came for something. My jaw unlatched and hung open for a moment, before I finally found the words I was looking for.

"I need a book," I shrugged and shifted on my feet awkwardly.

She furrowed her brow and her gaze glanced over to the small makeshift bookshelf she had by her desk, "A book? Well, why didn't you ask? I've got some great novels you'd probably like." A smile spread across her face, you could see the energy bursting inside of her in excitement. Reading was also sort of her thing, and when other students asked for some recommendations she would go on for hours about Roald Dahl, Pat Conroy, and so many other authors she adored. She was book crazy, and it was actually quite funny and entertaining sometimes. It would get her off topic, and we'd spend the whole class talking about some old book nobody cared about.

She started to waltz towards her bookshelf, before I stopped her.

"No, I'm looking for a fairy tale kinda book. I was wondering if you had one?" I asked, raising a brow afraid of her answer. I basically shriveled into a corner as she looked at me as if she had never heard of such a book.

"I-I may..." She answered, uncertain. She continued to head towards the stacks of novels, and children books. Her petite hands searched through the thick and thin volumes of books, and her eyes scanned each title.

"What's so important about this fairy tale book, Henry?" She glimpsed back at me, "You've never asked for a book from me before."

There it was again, the stuttering and hung open mouth searching for words. I didn't know if I should tell her about the stranger who walked into my house uninvited and told me to look for a book that may or may not be real. I'd probably be sent to Archie, and I really didn't want to go see him more than I had to. He was nice, and I knew he was just doing his job - but I hated talking to people about things I didn't want to. I've only gone to his office once or twice, because my mother thought I was going through a stage of sorrow or something. She got worried after she had told me about my adoption, and I ended up thinking too hard about it and upsetting myself. But once I assured her that I was perfectly fine, she finally cancelled my appointments. Thank goodness.

"I just... got into reading recently -"

"About fairy tales?" Mary Margaret giggled, "I felt you were more of a Stephan King sorta kid," she cracked a joke to herself, and organized her bookshelf before straightening up and turning back to me.

"Yeah.. I guess all those bedtime stories got to me..." I forced a laugh, and stuck my hands into my coat pockets.

Mary nodded, and her shoulders heaved up in a shrug, "Sorry Henry, I don't have any ancient fairy tale books that would suit you. I only have novels, and old children's books."

My heart dropped in disappointment, and I let out a sigh of defeat. I knew it - I had that thought, that little idea in my mind that was saying that this book wasn't even real. The August man was just a phony and a creep, who wanted to give kids false hope. But why was I getting upset over a dumb book anyway? Because it had something to do with my mom, maybe. Considering this guy told me my mom wouldn't be home for a couple weeks, and she was in a near death situation, I was pretty worried and hoping for something to hold onto. Who knew, my mom could be sleeping peacefully in a hotel room right now, maybe even on her way home because that stupid meeting got cancelled. I just needed all the hope I could get right then.

"Yeah... it's okay - I didn't really expect you to have it anyway," I looked to the ground, and shuffled backwards, "thanks anyway," I forced a grin, and turned around swiftly to quickly trudge over to the door.

"Henry," she spoke up, and I stopped, "if this is about your mom... I bet she's perfectly fine - she'll be home in a few days, hang in there." I felt a pain in my chest, but it wasn't physical pain. More like emotional. My mom. If she knew what I knew, or what I think I knew, she wouldn't be giving hope speeches.

"Yeah, thanks." I muttered, and strolled out of the room without another spoken word to my favorite teacher.

* * *

The chime of the bell that hung above the door at Granny's diner rang as I rushed through the entryway. Surprisingly there weren't many people there, like there usually were in the mornings. A lot liked to go get their morning coffee's and some of the finest breakfast dishes here, before they went off and did whatever they occupied their time of day with. If I was lucky, and my mom was in a particularly good mood, she'd take me here before school and we'd have breakfast together. Then she would walk me to school, so I wouldn't have to ride that god awful bus full of wailing children who acted as if school was a torture chamber. In reality it was just school, somewhere every kid had to go to be able to be succeed in life, or at least that's what my mom always says.

My adolescent legs carried me over to one of the stools by the counter. I let out a huff of defeat as I plopped down on the cushioned seat, and rested my body against the counter top. I was so disappointed in finding a pointless book, that I forgot to worry about my mom. The whole accident, and near-death experience? Maybe that's what he wanted me to do, to worry. To focus my mind on this stupid book that may not even be real, because I did somewhere deep down, believe it was. That maybe it was a key to figure out if what happened to my mother was true, and so I could have that closure to know that she's alright and breathing. Why was I believing this guy anyway? This August.

"Hey kid, what're you doing here?" A familiar voice broke my train of thought, and my eyes shot up to meet Ruby's. She waltzed towards the other side of the counter, and faced me with a smile.

"Well I sorta haven't managed to learn how to cook myself food yet," I joked, flashing a smile back.

"Can't you conjure up a bowl of cereal?" She rose a brow, and tapped her nail on the marble, "Hot chocolate?"

"Don't forget the cinnamon," I giggled, sitting straight up and taking in a deep breath as she walked back into the kitchen. I shifted in my seat, and didn't seem to notice the ringing of the bell as someone else came into the diner. I must've gotten stuck back into my own thoughts, and emotions of all these situations. One day. One day, my mom's been gone and I've already talked to a stranger, searched for a strange book the stranger want's me to find, and come up empty handed and filled with doubt and worry. Great.

"Guessing you didn't find it then." Speak of the devil.

I turned my head to find August finding himself comfortable on a stool next to me. He grinned, and let out a sigh of, I don't know, disappointment maybe? My lack of response and utter sorrow gave him the hint. He shrugged, and shook his head before his eyes locked back onto me.

"Don't worry, you'll find it. Don't lose your hope just yet kid," he patted my back gently, and folded his hands on the counter.

"No I won't," I muttered, my anger finally trying to escape, "I can't do anything right. I don't even know why I'm looking for this imaginary book-"

"Henry, this book is very real. And it's very important that you're the one who finds it." He stuttered, confident yet he seemed nervous.

"Why me? Why am I so important? There are tons of other kids here, go bother one of them," I snapped, resting my chin of my propped up fist.

August swallowed, and clenched his jaw before responding back, "It's hard to explain, but I promise - once you find this book it'll all make a lot of sense."

I turned to him, and furrowed my brow. He was crazy, just plain and utterly crazy. He walked into my house, and spoke of a book that apparently gave me all these answers I had to his stupid theories? I didn't know why some of me believed him, or even continued to talk to him. But, I still had these bits and pieces of hope that I clung onto for dear life.

My lips parted to argue back, but Ruby exited the kitchen with my freshly made hot chocolate in her hands. She paused in her steps, as her eyes scanned over August in confusion, before continuing and setting the warm mug in front of me.

"Here you go Henry," her eyes never left August, "do you know this guy?" She asked me, as if she was being my protective mother. I glanced between the two, and finally nodded gently in conformation. She looked him up and down, and locked eyes with me. I knew that glare, she was worried. It made me feel safe, to know that someone actually looked out for me. Of course, I had my mom. But she wasn't around most of the time, usually off doing work things. Yanno, her being Mayor and all. So she didn't have time to hear my sob stories, and complaining about things that upset me.

I gave her another nod, and forced a soft grin.

"I'll just sit here then... and make sure everything's all right," Ruby stated cautiously looking over August once more before taking a few steps back and fumbling with empty cups. I held back a giggle at her attempt to make sure I was safe, and shook my head.

"Well, I better be going then. I don't think your friend likes me very much," August lifted himself from the stool, and stood up sliding into his heavy coat before facing me.

"And Henry..." I looked up at him, confused, "remember, if you can't find the book - _it'll always find you."_

* * *

"Good morning, Madam Mayor."

My eye lids slowly lifted, like a curtain, revealing a tall blonde entering the room with a tray. I shook myself from the weariness that surrounded me, and fluttered my eyes to clear my poor vision. The blonde's hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her face plastered a smile down upon me. Once I could actually begin to understand my surroundings, I lifted the corner of my lip to grin back at her. It was all the energy I had, or that I wanted to use anyway.

"Good Morning Ms. Swan," I replied, my voice scratchy. I wanted to sit up, but I couldn't move. Pain coursed through my nerves, keeping me in place and unable to barely lift a finger. Not again. I was done with pain, with just utter torment. Once I flinched, Ms. Swan must've took that as a hint right away.

"A nurse should be right in to give you some pain medication," she nodded softly, and deliberately sat down the large tray blanketed with food on the over bed tilt top table, that hung on the side of my bed, "I just came to bring you some food." She did this nervous little giggle, and stuck her pale hands into her coat pockets. I wanted to laugh, not being rude. Because it was sort of funny, to see someone so nervous around me that wasn't a former cursed citizen of Storybrooke. The glint in her pastel green eyes showed me that she didn't just come to bring me food, she had something to tell me. After being a pretend Mayor for a town for 28 years I can tell someone's emotions just by studying their eyes. Plus, I also was a former Evil Queen. I had some hidden secrets.

I prepared my damaged lungs to speak again, taking in a large breath, "Considering you are a surgeon... and nurses are usually the ones bringing the food-" I ran out of breath. I closed my eyes, and concentrated, inhaling, "I have a feeling you are doing more than just supplying me with meals." The corners of my lips turned upright in a grin, as I gazed up at the woman. Her smile faded into a gentle frown, as her eyes found the floor.

"Well, aren't you clever Ms. Mills," Emma chuckled, and removed her hands from her pockets and continued to fiddle with her thumbs. I rose a brow up at her, and she proceeded to inch closer to me and end up sitting on the end corner of the bed. She was careful not to move me, "I-you- you've got to undergo another surgery. For your spinal cord, it-it's not quite fixed yet." Her face was masked with uncertainty and panic. For what reason, I don't know. Maybe, my reaction, "Your backbone is severely fractured, and is staying stable through these shots I have to give you." She tried to keep it as simple as possible, with shorter words.

"No-no, I have to get back to my son. I only told him I'd be gone for a few days-"

"You have a son?" Ms. Swan furrowed her brow over at me, in confusion. Like it was strange for a woman to have a child. I wasn't sure if she had some sort of short term memory loss, or just wasn't listening to me. But I was almost positive I had told her about Henry just less than a day ago. My lack of response shot her a signal, and she shook her head immediately, "Sorry- shit, I don't know how I forgot about that," she exhaled, "I've just been.. feeling weird lately."

"He's only 8... turning 9 in a few days," that was when reality hit me, I could potentially miss my child's birthday, "I need to get the hell out of here as soon as possible." The anger that sprung from nowhere took all the energy I had left in my body. My chest heaved up and down in exhaustion, and lack of oxygen. Emma's lips parted, wanting to jump in and say something to calm the woman down, but no words came to her mind. I looked down at the blonde, I could feel the panic in my eyes sinking deep in her skull.

"I'll try my best to get you out of here as soon as I can Madam Mayor.. you just have to trust me," Emma swallowed, and gazed back at me with this time - certainty, "I won't let you miss your son's birthday." But we both knew that was a lie, even if I didn't need a damn surgery on my back I wouldn't be able to leave for at least a few weeks at the most. Hell, I wouldn't even be able to drive. I cursed to myself under my breath, and avoided any eye contact with the blonde for the seconds I needed to regain my heading. My son was being left with Granny for weeks on end with no explanation. This was worse than a curse on my part.

I found Emma's eyes again, and hesitated before giving a soft nod. Tears swelled in my eyes, and threatened to spill over onto my cheeks. But I held them back with everything I had. The last thing I needed was someone to see me like this. Weak.

* * *

Tears stained my cheeks, and soaked into my pillow that engulfed every wrenching cry and wail that escaped my throat and lungs. I could feel the redness in my cheeks, and I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my head. I haven't cried like this in so long, and truthfully - why was I? Nobody cries over books, unless your a girl who reads constant love sick novels every hour of the day. But this book - it was different. I wanted to find it so bad, like it was a piece of a puzzle to seeing my mom. To seeing that she was okay, and healthy and thinking about me wherever she was. This book, that a strange man told me about was just so important, that it had me sobbing into my sheets and pillows full of sorrow. How could I have this attachment to this book that I haven't even laid eyes on yet, or even opened to read the pages?

It was because I was meant to believe I would have this piece of my mother.

But she had never seen this book either, right? How could this be something that could keep me close to my mother when she had never laid a palm on it either. None of this made sense, but neither did this town, or these people. Or even my life. I didn't even know much about life. I sniffed and rose my head from my pillow, a cool blast of air surrounding me immediately. The dark, loneliness of my room didn't help my sorrow anymore than my thoughts did. I let out another gentle cry, and my shoulders shook. I wiped the stained tears from my hot cheeks, and flung the sheets that covered my body to the floor in anger. My hands gripped around the soft edges of my pillow, and swung it forwards to hit the wall opposite of me. No matter how angry I was, I knew my mom would've been angrier if I threw something hard enough to break another. So I used my resources and threw the softest, and closest things to me. Until I was left shivering on my plush mattress.

* * *

The next morning I walked to school alone. There was no way I was going to ride that dreadful bus, especially today. My brain couldn't handle anymore wailing, including myself. My eyes threatened to shut every few seconds, from the lack of sleep I had gotten. Due to throwing my pillows and covers, I really had no choice but to stay up and weep myself to an hour to two of sleep. My book bag felt like a thousand pounds crushing my shoulders, and my feet dragged along the floor like weights.

The entire day went by like a blur, with teachers calling on me and my only response being silence and moping. No asks about what was wrong was fine with me, but I knew the second I walked into Mary Margaret's class, she'd lock onto me like a target. But this time, she didn't ask. She only gave me doleful looks, and worried expressions like I were her own child. She tried to avoid eye contact every once in a while, but always failed miserably. Like a toddler trying not to eye the cookie jar, that had just been refilled. My head rested in my folded arms on the desk, and I swear I passed out in short minute naps every moment I got.

Halfway through the class, after Mary Margaret had just got done giving directions about another pointless worksheet that had been handed out, she headed straight towards me. She had a gaze that had the look of 'I have something to tell you kid'. I should've known she wouldn't keep to herself, but another part of me liked that she was worried and wanted to help. It was nice.

She had her arms behind her back, in a sort of secretive way. Just like my mother was on my birthday so many years ago, with the bright blue truck. That memory re-appearing in my mind also did not help my moping. My frown got deeper, and I just wanted to bury my head lower into my arms.

"You won't believe this Henry," she smiled down at me. Her glowing personality gave me no choice but to become interested in what she had to say. With a swift movement of her arm she sat down a large beat up volume in front of my countenance, "I found your book."

* * *

My feet practically were full of energy as I stomped down the road, and all the way back to my house. The blood pumping threw my veins, and my heart beat racing in a good way this time, made a large smile spread across my face in pure joy. My bag felt like air was resting on my back, and my eyes darted left to right. I couldn't believe this.

I skid to my left as I tried to stop as quickly as possible to turn and run up the path to my door. My legs flew up the stairs to the porch, and my palm gripped around the door handle. I swung it open, and this time I didn't take my shoes off. I ran throughout the house, joy soaring through my blood.

"August! August, where are you!" I gasped for air as I shouted his name through the vacated home, "August, I found it! I found the book!" I giggled in triumph, and threw my arms in the air in victory. I didn't even care if he wasn't here, I just didn't. But for whatever reason he couldn't appear out of nowhere and see me this time, it was odd. But all I cared for in that moment was the large novel that weighed down in my palms.

It read, _'Once Upon A Time.'_

Of course, he was right. It was real. And it was here, in my hands. I flung my book bag to the ground, and my feet pounded as I rushed into the kitchen. I jumped into a chair, almost knocking it down with myself in it. I slammed the book onto the table, and my fingers fumbled with the hard cover. I gave up, and just hurled it open to a random page, but quickly flicked the pages all the way back to the very first. A beautiful, painted like, picture came into view. And on the page next to it, filled with gorgeous writing. My head dodged back and forth between the pages, before I realized what I was looking at. A woman, dressed in a long black dress, seemed to be standing in a castle. People surrounded both sides of here, as if they were at an event. Maybe, even a wedding. The dark-haired woman was fierce , and looked to be feared and powerful. Much like, a villain. She wore a headpiece of lace, and her hair was long and in what seemed to be some sort of an up-do. She was confident, and intense. Evil.

This was a fairy-tale book. Why didn't this surprise me? My eyes darted to the right, and scanned over the cursive text.

 _'The Evil Queen...'_

My eyes scanned the picture once more. _August said everyone in this town was a fairy tale character out of this book.. who was she?_

Then, like magic had taken me over - the features and small, neat details came together like a puzzle and my head seemed to put two and two together like it was meant to. The features on the woman's face came into clear view, like a memory. The dark hair, dark eyes, strong prominent qualities of her face. It all jointed into one piece like a flashback, and my joy and glee turned into ambiguous and exasperation.

That was my mom.


	5. Chapter 5

**(( HIII! Here's another chapter of Entwined. & I hope you guys like it, it isn't one of my best chapters in my eyes - but I worked hard :) In the next few chapters, I'm going to try and make them a ton longer with more information and development. There is a TON i want to fit into this fanfic, and it's nowhere close to anything happening yet :) So the next chapters, and hopefully the rest ever in this story will be much much longer, and informational. :) ENJOY! )) **

The wheels underneath me reeled me down the hall, and nurses hands gripped the sides of the hospital bed until their knuckles were white. The bumps and jolts kept me awake for the smallest amount of time, keeping me consciously aware of the bright ceiling lights that passed by. My head was weary, and I had the urge to just sleep, and let my body relax. It was the anesthesia, obviously. That dreaded drug, that forcefully gripped me by the legs and threatened to pull me into siesta. I leaned my head to the side, and my eyes fluttered open to unveil someone familiar. Her green eyes gazed down upon mine, and her lips stretched into a grin. She seemed to be the only person I had come to know here, the only person who willingly wanted to help me. Weird, huh? Nobody has ever wanted to help me. Only tell me what I should and shouldn't be, and think they are helping me.

"I know this isn't what you want Regina..." her cold palm gently wrapped around the top of mine in assurance, "but I promise you, everything will be fine and you'll be back home in no time." The giddy feeling I had gotten as my name slipped past her lips gave me the littlest burst of vivacity. But quickly faded back into exhaustion.

I forced a tender grin, and rose my brow, "It.. has to be done.." I whispered, unable to give anymore energy into my words. My voice was groggy, and jaded. But no matter how tired I was, and seemed - Henry never left my mind. My skin crawled with anxiety at the thought of him being alone and scared when I didn't call or come home immediately with open arms. I batted my eyes once more, catching a glimpse of the blonde still grinning down at me. For some odd reason, those green eyes seemed familiar to me. I had never been out of Storybrooke more than a few times, and I've most certainly never met this woman. It was unusual. Yet, calming.

And just like that, the bright flickering lights of the hospital and the warming glow of the viridescent eyed woman named Emma, disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

For such an old book, it smelled fresh. New. Like it had just come from the library in perfect condition. I liked that smell, but this book revolted me.

My fingertips grazed upon the pages, flipping them back and forth in search of any other truth. I didn't know if I was supposed to be happy, or angry. But I had this mixture of both, that gave me an unpleasant feeling in my stomach. The illustrations that resided on the pages were so splotchy, yet beautiful. The faces were hard to make out sometimes, but I knew each and every face like I had seen them day after day. How could I miss the face of my mother? Or who knew what she was - maybe even evil.

"You found it."

My head snapped to the side, and my eyes locked onto the tall man leaning gently on the door frame to the kitchen. August.

"You decided to leave out a lot of vital information," I scoffed, focusing my attention back onto the cringe worthy novel in front of me.

"And here we go," he shifted his weight back onto his feet, and waltzed over to me, "I was expecting this, so go on. Let it all out, kiddo." He leaned over my shoulder, scanning the book with his eyes as well. I had this lump in my throat, that just wouldn't go away. Like that moment before you're about to cry, but you hold it in because you want to. You have to.

My fingers twitched, then quickly grasped the flimsy pages, flipping them all the way back to square one. The first page, where the dark and evil lady stood and smirked. My eyes continued to search the illustration, trying to find out another plausible explanation than the one that was currently engulfing my brain like an infection.

"Is that-"

"Your mother? It sure is," August cut me off, and sighed deeply as he straightened back up and pulled a chair up next to me. He sat down, and folded his hands together as if he were a father about to give me a depressing speech about something gone wrong. Which, I didn't really see much of a difference right now. I looked to the ground, scanning the white tiles and cracks that lied on the floor. I could feel his gaze on me, searching me for any emotion - any reaction he could find to figure out his next move. I didn't show much, just shock and utter confusion. That's all I've really felt these past few days since she's been gone. I didn't even know if I really wanted her to come back now. The Evil Queen was my mother, well - adopted mother. Same thing, right? She was the great and powerful evil queen that everyone had read about at least once in their lifetimes. The one, that everyone hated and despised with such a passion. Even if it was just a fairytale, a make believe story that made money.

"What was she like?" I spoke, not even taking the chance to look up at him in this moment. I didn't want to give him the chance to lie to me, to tell me that, 'Oh! The Evil Queen? Well, first off. She's real, and second - she's great! She treated everyone fairly, and like her own children. She was by far the best queen we've ever had in fairytale land.' or whatever they called their home.

August shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and tugged on his pant leg, "Kid, I'm not sure you-"

"I've done everything you've asked me to do since you've gotten here. I took advice from a random stranger who walked into my house. I just want to know, what she was like," I took the chance, my eyes caught his. The anger pumping through my young veins made the blood rush to my face. That always happened when I was angry, I would turn a bright red and I could practically hear my heart beating out of my chest. I never liked being angry, but it happened.

He seemed to rethink, like he regretted everything he had ever said to me that one night. Like he never wanted me to go grab that book, and convince my teacher I was into fairytales for goodness sake.

"She was evil," he hesitated, and scanned my face with his dark brown eyes, "she was just... pure evil." His chest heaved out, as he took in a deep breath. This time, his eyes found the floor and I could see all of the memories he had ever had encountered with my mother rush back into his brain. I watched as he ran a hand through his hair, and clear his throat. Something happened, something terrible and I was the person living with her. The person who probably ruined thousands of life's, yet she never hurt me. Why? The great and terrible evil queen adopted me, cared for me, and loved me more than anyone else could. Why?

My heart yearned for more, more answers to my questions that threatened to spill from my lips, "Tell me more." I couldn't stop myself, I needed to know as much as he could give me.

"Henry-"

"Please." I begged, I had to do that a lot with this guy. And I didn't like it at all.

There, I found myself pleading for answers about make believe characters in a book that became so real to me that I found myself weeping into my pillow at night. My brain, my heart, my body ached for answers that nobody could give me. Like why did nobody realize they were being ordered by the Evil Queen, the mayor of Stroybrooke? Was this place even real? Why had I never been told, and why did this August show up on my doorstep like an invited guest? Nothing made sense anymore, and a part of me craved my mothers presence back home. I wanted her to hold me tight, and tell me everything was going to be okay and that all of this was just a bad dream. I was eight, and my mind was filled with more knowledge than the average kid. I was taught and loved by this wonderful mother that I would never give up, just to find out she was a famous villain who killed and tortured many. Maybe she didn't even love me, and she was planning to just get rid of me like my real mom. I didn't know anything anymore, and it made me want to break down in tears and go back to the days where I could just curl up next to my mother, and fall asleep to her soothing voice.

* * *

My palm rested on the scalpel that resided on the metal cart next to me. I bit the corner of my lip, as my eyes searched the woman on the bed. She lied face down, her back bare and prepped for surgery. All I had to do was do it, but something held me back. The thought of carving into her silk skin, and forever leaving such a scar sent chills up my spine. I was usually good at this, if not - great. I never thought twice before a surgery, never. It came natural, and easy. But Jefferson was right, I felt like my mother was the one lying on this bed. Even if I had never met her, or even if I hated every thought of her leaving me on the side of the road to die - I would never hurt her. Nor would I hurt the one before me, Regina. I watched her shallow breaths, and slowly gripped the scalpel. The creaking, and squeaking of a door shook me from the silence that had consumed me. My head snapped to the right, catching Jefferson in my gaze as he entered the room. He tugged on the collar of his lab coat, and didn't greet me with a smile like he normally did.

"I specifically asked for this to be a solo operation, Jefferson," I quickly stated, just wanting to be left alone this time.

"Oh I see," he chuckled, "you've found my new replacement." He nodded towards Regina. I cocked my head to the side, tensely as his expression was hard and angry. But he cracked a small grin, and I let that in as a sign to loosen up a bit, "Why solo, Swan?" He rose a brow at me, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"I just.. feel like I owe it to her in some weird kinda way-" I paused, glancing around in thought. I didn't really know why, I just felt the need to be alone. And, I also told her I'd be the one to get her home as quick as possible. I didn't need any other help with this, she trusted me. And only me. I saw it in her dark brown eyes when she looked at me on the way to prepping. She wanted to go home, and she wanted to go home without worry and quick recovery. And she wanted me to do that, because she knew that I could save her no matter what. I promised her that, that I would save her. And save her I shall.

My eyes locked onto Jefferson, and caught his expression go from warm and cuddly to enraged and irritated.

"I need to tell you something, dove." He tapped his foot, and cleared his throat with a grunt.

"Oh yeah?" The corner of my mouth turned upright in a soft smile, trying to ease the eeriness that filled the air like thick fog, "What's that?" I gave up, and my eyes fell back onto Regina. Who continued to breath softly, and wait patiently in her slumber to be operated on. Her dark hair was tucked into a protective cap, but small strands snuck out and rested on the back of her neck.

"She-" Jefferson caught my attention again. I side-eyed him, and pretended to examine the scalpel I still held in my hand, "she's not who you think she is, Swan." I held down a laugh, but failed miserably. In my mind this came as a joke. My eyes shot up to his as I was still chuckling under my breath.

"What is this? A scene from some crappy soap opera?"

He shot back immediately, "Behind those pretty dark eyes you're always getting yourself caught in - is something far worse than just some mayor. She's evil. A killer, a manipulator-"

"Did you take your medication this morning or?-" I snapped at him, he was being more delusional than he usually acted on the daily. I was used to some of his paranoia by now, after years of his fidgeting and breakdowns over regular patients - it seemed normal. But this, was just a bit odd. She had been here for a few days now, and he hadn't said a word about her other than she was some mayor of a town.

He took in a sharp breath, and swiftly waltzed over to the opposite side of the operation table across from myself. He eyed her limp body, not in desire - but hatred. Like he was an animal ready to pounce on it's prey. It's helpless, prey. My muscles tensed, and I found myself becoming a bit territorial. Ready to jump if he tried anything.

"She.." he pointed his finger down at her, "she doesn't deserve saving." Fright began to fill my body. He had never acted like this before, and it scared me. Gave me memories of foster care, and the horrible children I had to grow up with. But I stood my ground, not letting those walls down for him to see my terror. Or he would surely use that to his advantage.

"Jefferson, you're talking nonsense. Get out of here before you hurt yourself," he growled at him, my grip slowly tightening around the blade in my palm. He looked up at me, and clenched his jaw densely.

"You have no idea what she is, Emma." I let myself react, the shock covering my features and revealing itself to him. He never used my real name, ever - mostly. Not in situations like these anyway. And that's when he really frightened me. Genuinely scared me, even. I didn't get scared often, I was tough. After years and years of running, and fighting, and surviving - I knew how to hold my ground.

" _She has a child_ , for gods sake Jefferson." My throat was hoarse, and my voice cracked as I spoke now. I knew what it felt like to be left alone, with no parents. I wasn't going to wish that upon a child, waiting for his mother to return back home. He deserved to see his mother again, I didn't need to know what kind of woman she was. She was a mother. Like I once was, even if it was for a mere couple of months. I was once a mother, too. And I chose to give the baby it's best chance, and it wasn't with me. It was with someone else, someone better. My feet worked without my consent, and I walked around the bed and straight up to him, "Just get out." I pushed myself between him, and Regina's unconscious body. He leaned closer to me, his hot breath hitting my face like poison.

"You should've let her _die_ the other day," he hissed. That was it - that was the moment where I lost all control I had left. It was like a flame bursting, and burning all the sanity I had. My fists rose, and they connected with his chest - roughly pushing him backwards from Regina. No matter how angry I had been, I made sure not to cut him with the scalpel. He stumbled back, surprise rushed over his face.

"Get the hell out!" I rose my voice drastically. But silence soon took over, and left us standing there giving each other deathly glares for the few moments it stayed that way. My green eyes shot back and forth between his, that flame never going down and settling. His expression softened, as if he realized what he had said and done. I wasn't going to let him in, I wasn't going to show him my vulnerable side. I didn't need someone trying to understand me right now, nor did I ever. I've survived this long, haven't I?

"I said _go_!" My arm shot up, with my index finger pointed directly at the doors. I found the ground again, and ignored all eye contact I could.

"You'll see one day Swan." His voice softened, and was full of remorse but not regret. He knew what he said, and I knew he didn't regret one moment of it. It made my skin crawl. I felt his presence slowly leave, and his shoes squeaking with each step he took towards the door. I heard them swing open, and close.

The breath I had been holding, I finally let escape my lungs. My body shook, and my nerves were on edge for the first time in a while. I felt like bawling, like letting out all my anger in tears - but I didn't allow it. I was strong, remember? Emma Swan, former bail bonds person - who didn't take any shit from anyone.

But here I was, risking everything I had for this woman I barely knew. This woman who had an eight year old son waiting for her back home, and probably a family, too. Waiting just as patiently. This woman who's hair flowed beautifully from her head - but barely skimmed her shoulder blades and had eyes as dark as chocolate. Did I do it just because it was the right thing to do? Maybe. Or maybe I did it, because of the way she looked at me before she fell into this unconscious state. Her pleading eyes, screaming for her son - but accepted the extra time she needed to become healthy enough to even leave back to him. The way they looked back at me, they were so calm. So- Emma, stop.

I had an operation to finish. A woman to save once again, but I would do it a million times more if it meant getting her back to her son.

* * *

There was anxious ticking, coming from the clock that hung on the wall opposite of me. The same clock that read 3:47 A.M. My shift was over 4 hours ago, I usually got a bit earlier than usual on Fridays - but I knew if I left after the surgery I wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing how she was. The curiosity would've eaten me alive, and I would've ended up calling anyway to feed that intriguing feeling.

I chewed at my nail, creating just a painful stub. Three nails down, seven to go I guess. I'd been standing for so long, the numbness in my feet slowly turned into absolute numbness. I'd been there for at least three hours, just waiting outside the door - for that bloody nurse who took he sweet time. What was I saying, she was doing her job - and so was I. Well, technically waiting outside a patients door wasn't really part of my job - surgery's were. But, I counted this as something to do. This time though, I wanted to. I needed to know that I fixed everything, made her as new as possible. Or back to her original state at least.

Four nails down, six to go.

I kept hearing small chatter, which was odd - considering Regina was supposed to be deeply asleep from all this medication we had her on. There was a shuffle of footsteps, and the twist of a doorknob. My eyes watched the knob turn, and the door swing open with a nurse appearing behind it. I put my hand down to my side, and immediately turned to rush into the room. Not even a moments pause, I was practically shoving past the young woman. Her palm gripped my bicep gently, and my head turned back to face her in confusion.

"What?" I asked, raising a brow, "I'm aloud to-"

"I-I know, Ms. Swan," she interrupted, and forced a small laugh, "You've done this plenty of times, especially for this mayor-" she nodded into the room, and I tilted my head in a bit of a shock. Did everyone realize that easily?

"Then.. what is it?" I cleared my throat, looking down at her. I was almost an entire head taller than her, she looked up at me like a small child. Her shoulders rose, and then drooped back down.

"Uh- Ms. Mills-"

"Regina." I didn't mean to interrupt, but I felt the need to correct her. Her shocked expression, and rose brow gave me the permission to continue talking if I liked, "Oh- I mean her name is Regina." I swallowed, and glanced to the ground in embarrassment.

"Uh.. yeah," the nurse re-positioned the papers in her hands, "She has developed an infection in her left foot - it must've been contracted after she had a small surgery constructed on it," she peered at me, like this wasn't any big news at all. Which confused me, shouldn't she be worried - even the tad bit at least? My gaze shifted back and forth between both her eyes, and I shook my head.

"I don't understand- is this good news to you..?" I stuttered, and crossed my arms. I must've been coming off as offensive and rude, because she gave me the same confused and irritated look as before. I seemed to this a lot - do, and say things in a different tone I truthfully didn't mean to do. I was bad at expressing emotion, I had all my feelings locked away behind this door - and whenever I let one out, it turns into this huge mess I didn't mean to make.

She shook her head, "No- I was just letting you know.. you are her doctor and - it's not a life threatening condition right now for Ms.- Regina," she sighed, "Just make sure you keep an eye on it, please. I already gave her some medication for it," I sensed a hint of aggravation in her small voice. But I chose to ignore it, I didn't want to start anything more than a conversation with her. I was already impatiently waiting to enter the room. I nodded, and she finally turned and waltzed away. I let out a breath of relief, and continued to make my way into the isolated room.

My eyes met a bed ridden brunette, wrapped in bandages and casts. Her shallow breathing, and steady movements gave me a little more peace than I had before. My gaze then met her foot, it was wrapped tightly in a dressing.

"It keeps getting better and better, huh?" A groggy voice spoke, and I flinched instinctively in shock. My stare was forced upon an open set of dark brown eyes. I inhaled deeply, and relaxed my muscles that had tensed.

"Do you ever sleep?" I sighed, taking a few sluggish steps towards the side of her bed, "Come on, you need the rest Regina." I urged her to sleep, I knew how tired she must've been even if she didn't want to show it. I had only known her for a matter of days, yet I already knew how stubborn she really was. I bet her son was the exact same way.

"No I don't," she giggled, and stopped quickly resting her hand on her stomach.

"You might want to be a bit careful," I smirked, and pulled up a chair next to her bedside. It squeaked as I sat down, and crossed my legs casually. There was a small moment of silence, as she stared down at her foot and furrowed her brow. I held down a laugh, seeing people being this crazy and loopy while on medication was hilarious to me. I may have been a professional surgeon, but I was still basically a child - or maybe I just had a little bit of humor left in my body.

"..I want to get up-" Regina muttered, as she struggled to lift her head. She put her hands to her sides, and started to try to push herself up. I jumped from my seat, and gently held her shoulders, trying to keep her down and from hurting herself. She groaned, and gave up. Her palm wrapped around my wrist as she lowered herself back down. She gazed up at me, and squinted her eyes, "Oh.. hi Emma," she smiled and rested her head in her pillow.

"Hi, Regina." I chuckled, and smiled back at her. The best thing to do in these types of situations was to go with whatever they said. She wouldn't even remember any of this in the morning, if she would just relax and sleep for once.

"What are you doing here?" She grumbled, still peering up at me as I fixed the sheets to her liking.

"I was just.. checking on you - making sure you were.. okay," I said softly, taking a step back to take a seat again.

An expression of shock, and joy spread across her tired face, "Aw.. isn't that sweet-" she giggled, "Nobody's ever done that for me before."

"I highly doubt that," I grinned, and rested my elbow on the arm of the chair, "So how're you feeling?" I asked, setting my chin on my propped up fist.

Regina scrunched up her face, and had to think about it, not that I wouldn't blame her anyway.

"I'm.. okay, I guess-" She turned to head to face me, and I watched as her eyes scanned over my face and settled body in the chair. She was thinking, which gave me a bit of a frightened feeling that lurked in my stomach. I was never used to people paying this much attention to me, and when someone was on this much medication to make them _this_ loopy - they said whatever they were thinking which wasn't ever a good thing. I wasn't expecting anything flattering.

"You know... I never usually say these type's of things but.." she continued to scan my facial features, that giddiness never leaving, "has anyone ever told you... how beautiful you were..?" She mumbled, and cocked a brow. Her question took me by complete surprise, and my body turned hot. I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks, and shook my head softly.

"I- Uh-" I stuttered. I could feel myself blushing, but it was less nerve racking knowing she wouldn't even realize anyway.

"Because you really are..." she muttered, and limply rose her hand to point towards me. I had no words, so I just forced out a laugh. It was the only way I could get out of any situation, "Why're you laughing?"

I shrugged, and fumbled with my hands, "I-I don't know-" I smiled, and glared at the ground.

"My son would like you-" She chuckled, resting her hand back down at her side and suddenly her expression softened. I gaped up at her, and it was my turn to study her face now. Even in this state of in between consciousness and unconsciousness - she still had these strong and special connection to her son and her thoughts about him. It was beautiful to see the love for a child someone had. Especially a mother who was so far away from them.

"Well... I'm sure he loves you and his father much more than he would ever like me," I leered. I guess I was also on the rule of, say whatever comes to mind. Because I sure didn't take a moment to think before I said that. She glared at me, and shook her head with a laugh.

"I'm not married.." she found it amusing, "I've never been married, and Henry's not really mine. I mean - he's _mine_ , of course... _he's my son_ -" her voice turned stern and angry, "he's adopted - but he's still my little boy.. my son," she became upset by her own words, and I could see the tears gathering in her eyes, "And nobody will take him from me.." I heard her voice start to quiver.

"Well he's very lucky to have you," I assured her, and grinned. Her face lit up, and she smiled brightly.

"You really think so?" Her brow furrowed together. I quickly nodded, and stood up from the cushioned seat.

"Yeah.." I said, "Yanno, I never knew my parents - so he's very lucky to have someone who cares so much about him. I've never really had that." I smoothed the covers once more for her comfort, and didn't dare say goodbye. I never had goodbye's, because in my eyes that mean't forever. I'd see her tomorrow, and I didn't need to address anything near goodbye. I gave her one more gentle grin, and slowly turned to leave. But a cold hand wrapped tenderly around my wrist again, followed with a deep and soothing voice.

"Please don't leave me.." Regina spoke, her grip not letting up. I turned back, and my eyes caught hers. They glared at me, softly and managed to hit me like a train at the same time. I took in a sharp breath, and hesitated before nodded quickly.

"Never," I stated quietly for her gentle ears, and mercifully wrapped my hand back around hers as well. I saw her eyes light up, and the corners of her mouth turn up in a big smile. God, she had the most perfect smile.

Without letting go of her arm, I pulled the chair closer to her bed and seated myself once more. I curled up in the plush chair. I didn't care how uncomfortable I was, if it made her feel anymore safe and secure - then I would've done it for years. Because in some weird way, I knew she would do the same for me. And like I had said before, I was going to save her. And to save her, I also needed to respect what she wanted from me.

And if staying by her side the rest of the night to keep her feeling protected. Then _damn_ , that's what I was going to do.


	6. Chapter 6

**(( WOOAAHHH, LATE UPDATE SO SORRY BUT HERE IT IS AND IM ACTUALLY SUPER HAPPY W/ THIS CHAPTER SO ENJOY BB'S))**

"You told me, that once I found the book - everything would make sense.. but it just doesn't," Henry's small voice met my ears as we walked side by side down the sidewalk, "Am I.. using it wrong, or something?" He rose a brow up at me, fiddling with the book.

"It takes time, Henry. And some answers, which is why I'm here," I replied. We slowly walked past Granny's Diner, where Ruby was opening the finery. Her head turned, and her eyes caught mine - not in a good way either. She glared at me, obviously throwing the hint that she didn't like me around Henry. Not many things or people made me uncomfortable, but she sure did. I tried to grin at her, but she only made the famous 'I'm watching you' hand gesture. I nodded, and carried on with Henry still filling my ear with statements and questions.

"Well, you aren't giving me much help either," he sighed, "no offense."

"None taken little man, I just feel like I should take it slow - it's a lot of crazy information for a young kids mind." I said, glancing down at him.

"I'm not a kid, I can handle it - you adults think every person that's younger than you is a child," he scoffed, and shook his head. His hands wrapped around the book, and opened it with a bit of difficulty, considering it was a pretty big book. His flipped to a certain page, with a baby wrapped in a hand-made blanket with the letters E-M-M-A woven into it, "You've mentioned the name Emma before, and her name appears here, too. Why haven't you said anything about her yet? She seemed pretty important when you first busted into my house." I chuckled softly, and stuck my hands into my jacket pockets.

"She's an important role in all of this, and that's all you really need to know right now." I grinned.

Henry rolled his eyes, and sighed dramatically, "Oh- come on! August, please! You already told me every character in this book, and who's who in this world. Except, her! I took that information pretty well, if you don't count the occasional questions." He practically begged me, and tugged on my sleeve.

"Henry, she's something bigger than some information about your friendly town being something made of magic. She's going to be a very big part of your life, and your mother's, too." I looked to him, and shrugged. He was stubborn, like his mother. Which wasn't a good thing on my part. I could never get out of anything with him, because all he did was pry and pry - then guilt trip me. I didn't realize I was such a sucker for kids until I met him.

"What is she gonna be, my maid or something?" He laughed, and looked back onto the illustration, "Will you at least tell me who she's supposed to be?"

I exhaled, "I already told you. She's Emma - Emma Swan,"

"No, you know what I mean," Henry clenched his jaw, "she's a baby here, so that means she was the child of someone, right? So, who are her parents?" He looked up at me with desperation.

I scratched my head, and looked around before finally giving in on some info, "Fine, kid-"

"Henry." He interrupted.

"Henry," I grinned, correcting myself, "She is the wonderful product of the famous Snow White, and-"

"Prince Charming!?" Henry cut in once more, basically jumping up and down in excitement, "No way!"

I laughed, and shook my head, "You're a natural at this already, aren't you?" We continued on our way to the apartment part of town, where the famous Snow White - or aka Mary Margaret resided at. Henry wanted to start off slowly, and try to talk to some of the residents of this town, and see if they knew anything or remembered anything. And - he also just wanted a reason to know go talk to some fairy tale characters who didn't even know who they were themselves. I didn't complain, because if I hadn't of been a kid growing up around these magical things, I would be just like Henry. He was adventurous, and full of joy even after everything he's been through. He was even raised by the Evil Queen herself, and literally nobody saw that coming. Especially me, the only person who actually remembered anything from the Enchanted Forest. I practically saved Emma's life, and brought rescue to her without even being seen. I was the hero that started it all, in my own eyes. Which, yeah - was kinda selfish, but it was mostly true. Nor did I care I wasn't being treated like a king, I didn't want to be. I knew what I had coming to me in the near future now, was going to be good. All thanks to this kid, and his mother. I never really thought I'd be relying on the Evil Queen either, life it just full of surprises here. And not once I necessarily liked.

"You know, I never actually asked you - who you were in this book," Henry's voice cut through my thoughts as he traced the letters on the front cover, "I never saw you anywhere in here." His gaze caught mine, and I was forced to look straight ahead.

"I am in that book," I said, "Just in a different sort - of form. I was kinda like you." I looked back down at him, and smirked - giving him subtle hints, "But then again, you aren't made out of wood. Are you?" I furrowed my brow. Joking with him, I pinched his shoulder - and he laughed.

"No, I'm not." He replied, and opened the book again - flipping quickly through the pages as his eyes scanned for any figure that looked like they had been carved from a tree. He landed on a picture, of a large round table filled with people - including Snow White and Prince Charming. A small little boy like frame stood by an old man. Henry's eyes gazed upon the physique and smiled brightly.

"You're Pinocchio?" He rose his brow, and smiled from ear to ear in joy, "Why aren't you wooden anymore?" He asked, confused.

I shrugged, "This world has a weird affect on me, I guess." I cracked a smile back down at him.

* * *

My eyelids lifted swiftly, no heaviness or struggle this time. It felt peaceful, and I was comfortable for once in a long time. It was dark, but slits of light found their way through the drapes that covered the window. Or more like blankets, someone had put them there - trying to keep the sunlight out and out of disturbance. My hair was sprawled out around me, and was a bit uncomfortable, but I could manage for the time being. But as my eyes lingered, and searched the white room around me they caught the slightest color of yellow. I turned my head to the right, and a whole new scene was lied out in front me. A tall blonde curled up in an old large cushioned chair slept silently beside me. It was Emma, or Ms. Swan - whatever she preferred. The chairs arm touched the side of my bed, as if she was trying to get as close as possible to me without actually being in my bed. Her blonde hair, too - was covering the empty area next to my pillow. She managed to scoot close enough to rest her head next to mine, just off the edge of the creaky hospital bed. My eyes then veered down to my right arm and hand - that seemed to be immobile. Emma, and I's arms had somehow become linked in a gentle sort of way - with our hands held together. _What?_

I furrowed my brow, and tried to move my arm but she had a grip on it. It wasn't strong, but more like sympathetic. It was warm, and comforting. I had hated to admit it then - but hell I felt safe and maybe even happy. What happened last night? How did she even end of staying here? Wasn't that like, something that wasn't supposed to happen? I shook my head, and closed my eyes as I took in a soft breath. As I exhaled, a sharp pain struck out in my lower back and a stinging sensation started to utilize in my left foot. I clenched my jaw, and my fists started to ball up for the slightest moment - and as on cue the blonde shook awake from the quick movement I had made. She lifted her head, and squeezed my palm back in reassurance. She was up in an instant.

"Regina? Are you okay?" Her groggy voice filled the silent air, and her glistening eyes met mine. I was struck with utter silence - unable to speak for some weird reason. Her eyes were these objects that seemed to hypnotize whoever looked in them. My mouth hung open, and I stuttered with my words. Both of our gazes traveled down onto our conjoined hands, and Emma briskly let go and tried to cover up with tucking a piece of loose hair behind her ear. She cleared her throat, and as soon as her eyes left mine I was able to speak again.

"My-uh, back and...foot-" I stammered, and pointed to my foot weakly. The pain seemed to get worse every second that passed. Emma stood quickly, and rushed over to my foot and gently took the covers and unveiled my foot from underneath. Cold air rushed in, and goosebumps covered my body from head to toe. I sighed, and relaxed my head against my pillow - as I stared up at the ceiling. I felt her tender palms lightly examine my foot and unwrap the dressing that caressed it. A few seconds later she wrapped it back up, and I heard a deep breath being taken.

"I'll get you the medication that you need for it," Emma said softly, and turned on her heel to exit the room.

"..-Wait," I spoke, "I can last.. I just - don't leave me alone," I sighed and sunk into the sheets beneath me in a bit of embarrassment.

"Regina," she chuckled and gave me a short glance over her shoulder, "come on, you need them."

I shook my head, "Please - just a few more minutes, I hate the quiet.." I begged. Which it was the truth. Quiet meant being alone, and being alone was something I was good at. I hated it, and cherished the moments I had with anyone you kept me company. Or people that I felt comfortable and safe with. She counted as one of those people very quickly, also her being the person who saved my life counted, too.

Emma laughed again, "Funny. You seemed to feel the same last night, too. I thought that was the meds talking," she finally stopped and turned back around and faced me. I felt small compared to her, well other than being stuck in a bed 24/7. She strolled slowly back to me, and rose a brow as saying 'I really should go get those meds'. I glared back up at her, and swallowed as her shadow overtook me. She rolled her eyes with a grin, and looked over at the small table a few feet away.

"Hm, never mind then. Seems like the nurse already dropped some off," she said and picked the prescription bottle up. As she made her way back to me, she dropped a few pills in her hand and sat them in my hand swiftly, "..And uh- sorry for that. The whole - hand-holding.. thing." She was the one who stuttered her words out this time. She put the lid back on the bottle, and shifted on her feet in a nervous way. I grinned lightly, and glanced down at the pills that were in my hand.

"Its.. okay." I replied, "It's probably my fault, I believe.. I'm guessing I said some weird things last night to keep you here?" I gazed up at her as she went over to the sink and filled a plastic cup with some water. As she returned to my bedside, she shook her head gently.

"No.. well - you didn't want to be left alone. So.. I stayed, and I sort of expected to be woken up by a nurse or something and told to go home. But, it seems we were undisturbed." She grinned down at me, and bent over slightly, "Here.." She rose the cup of water to my lips, after I had thrown the pills in my mouth. The dry taste they had, I had always hated. I sipped some water, and swallowed the pills easily.

"Thank you," I nodded, and wiped my the corners of my mouth with my thumb. Emma watched me, but focused her attention back on the clear cup of water as I caught her. She as still dressed in her scrubs, that had been wrinkled for being curled up for so long, "You mustn't of been that comfortable in that chair." I said, breaking the silence. She chuckled, and sat down in the same chair - but turning to face me.

"No.. it was fine - it was actually one of the best sleeps I've had in a while," she shrugged, and glanced between my two eyes. There was another eery silence, before she sat the cup down on the ground beside her, "Can I ask you something?"

I rose my brow, and positioned my head restfully on my pillow to look at her, "Sure."

Emma wriggled in the seat, and scratched her head before speaking, "I-uh, have a friend-" she pointed back at the door behind her, "or, workmate - whatever. Named, Jefferson?" She furrowed her brow, as if it was a question. She examined my face, as if she was awaiting an expression of recognition of any kind.

I did know that name, all too well anyway. My brain seemed to flick a switch, and all the images and memories came flooding in like water escaping a dam. I licked my lips, and tried to hide my shock and utter rage from uncovering and showing itself to the blonde woman in front of me. I blinked rapidly, and forced a smile onto my face. Showing her I had no acknowledgment of this so called Jefferson. His chiseled facial features and smug smile snuck into my head, and didn't leave no matter how hard I tried. I had so many questions, but they weren't for Emma. They were for him. I was lucky to even be alive right now, who knew - he could've waltzed in here and drugged me. Killed me, even. He had no feelings or sympathy for my son anyway. He would leave a child motherless, just for his own guilt and despair. Well, as soon as I got out of this damned bed he'll see what I really am in this world.

Emma nodded, and paused, "Well, he has these sort of freak outs every once in a while.."

Yeah, no shit. Echoed in my head, but I kept the fake grin on my face.

"It's nothing to really worry about, but.. he had this one during your spinal surgery and it freaked me out a bit. I know - it's probably all in his mind, and I'm almost positive he's delusional but - do you know him? Like, at all?" She asked, folding her hands together to keep them still. My mouth hung open once more, and I quickly shook my head trying to give her an answer as quickly as possible, "No, I don't believe I do."

"You sure? That name doesn't click or anything? Because it was odd.. it came out of nowhere - I just -" she stopped, and scanned my face, "You know what, I'm sorry." She shook her head as well, and chuckled, "I don't know why I'm bothering you with this, this is crazy." Her expression softened, and she smiled over at me.

"It's fine," I smiled back, "sometimes you just have to be sure. I understand," I said softly, and exhaled. Emma was relieved and her shoulders slumped in a relaxed way.

"It was weird, he was saying all these crazy things - like 'she's evil!'" She chuckled, and I forced a laugh with her, even if my back seemed to be on fire, "But even if I've barely known you for just a few short days... I have this feeling that you're a good person. Some people just don't see that sometimes." I was taken aback, and looked at her in a slight confusion. If she thought all of that bullshit was weird, how would she feel if she were me right now? After all these years, and lonely nights this woman comes to save me, stay with me through the night and suddenly see's me as this good person. It was a lot to take in, and it honestly made me feel giddy inside. I didn't feel like myself at all, and it made me want to go home even more. But it had this pull, that was attached to me and dragged me to stay against my will. Despite the injury's and ability to not be able to leave, too. I felt the need to stay, and be here. Emma made me feel safe, and away from all harm that could come my way. After that crash, I didn't feel protected anymore - I was no longer behind that invisible wall of Storybrooke, with my son and my home. I was out in the open with dangers all around me. Death constantly over my shoulder, waiting to strike. This real world scared the shit out of me, but all of that seemed to fade away here. With the tall figure who owned the green eyes.

Emma's laugh faded along with mine, and she gazed back at my dark eyes. She searched them, I could sense it and see it. She was curious, and sensed something. I wasn't the best at lying, I was better at being sarcastic and snarky. But this, I was never faced with anything like this. With a real human being. She knew something was up, but I played along with my lie anyway. I wasn't going to give in now, I was too far into this fib. And along with my thoughts I seemed to get lost into the luminescence that resided in her stare.

* * *

"Come on, slow poke!" Henry raced up the steep stairs swiftly and turned his head to see me slowly heading his way.

"My knees aren't as strong as they used to be kid," I replied, gripping onto the wooden railing that followed side by side with the stairs. I grunted as I finally dragged myself to the top, and watched Henry tread his way over to the door that apparently belonged to Mary Margaret. He held the large book under his arm and gripped tightly onto it as if it were going to blow away. His small structure stood in front of the large wooden door, and his fist lifted to knock. The gentle thuds echoed down the stairs, then silence took over once more.

After a long pause I spoke, "Maybe she went to go sing to some birds, Henry," I joked, but didn't laugh. I didn't think this was going to be such a good idea. It took me some time to even convince myself to come to this dreaded town and talk to Henry. I didn't want to complain, he was a kid with goals that he wasn't going to give up so easily. Like I've said before... just like his mother. Even though I was glad he didn't grow up to be some sort of psycho, it sort of surprised me. I didn't stick around to watch Regina raise him, I didn't really think about it. Considering I had a lot more to do, than basically watch paint dry. For eight years...

There was the shuffle of clothing, and the rattling of a door knob. The wooden door opened just a crack, and a brown eye peeked through the opening. It locked on Henry, and the door immediately swung open, revealing a brunette with a warming smile.

"Henry! What're you doing here?" She glowed, and glanced at the book under his arm before she looked up and scanned me, "Who's this?" Her radiant grin turned into a forced one mixed with the delighting confused expression that I've been welcomed with by everyone in this town. It made my stomach twist, knowing that somewhere deep down they knew me, and that I had known them over twenty years ago.

"He's a friend of mine," Henry replied, looking back at me with a grin, "We have some questions to ask you." He stated.

"Oh, well I'm kinda bu-" Henry glided right into her apartment room, with the persuasive personality he had in him, "Alright-" Mary Margaret rose her brow, and stepped to the side to let me in as well. I nodded in courtesy, and grinned.

We entered the neatly arranged apartment, and I watched as Henry strolled over to her kitchen table with ease - like he had visited many times before, and sat down the book carefully. Mary Margaret closed the front door, and furrowed her brow over at Henry.

"What's this all about?" She asked, and we both watched as Henry opened the book to the very first page. The page with the Evil Queen, Snow White, and Prince Charming.

"Where did you find this book?" He asked, looking up from the illustrated pages.

She hesitated, and shrugged with a shake of her head, "I-I don't know.." her eyes traveled back to me in discomfort, but once mine met hers she took her attention elsewhere, "Later that day, when you came to me and asked me about it - I decided to check the book case again. I thought it wouldn't hurt to see if I missed anything. And it was just... there - which was crazy right? I had never seen that book before in my life," She chuckled, and gazed down at the page from afar. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she ended up taking many more steps towards where Henry stood.

Henry looked up at me with a wide smile, "You were right," he laughed. I tilted my head to the side, and rose a brow, "well sorta."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, taking some steps towards him now too.

"You said the book would find me, and well.. it did. Sorta. It found her, then... me," he grinned, peeking over at Mary Margaret.

"I guess I was then," I grinned, putting my fists into my pockets.

Henry continued scanning over the page, as did Mary Margaret. He pointed at the brunette in the white gown with his index finger, "This is you," he stated joyfully. MM looked at him with a muddled expression, and searched for words, "You're Snow White - you just... don't remember." He cut to the point, not wanting to waste anymore time over the damn front page, "You were cursed, like with a spell or something. You were cursed here, in Storybrooke, without your memories by the Evil Queen," I saw the pain in his eyes as his mothers former name was announced, "she wanted to take away everyone's happy endings."

"Is that so?" She stuttered after a few seconds of thought, and glared down at the drawn woman, "Well it sure does look like me, doesn't it?"

I could hear it in her voice, and see the expressions on her face and tell - she didn't believe it. I expected it, and I hoped Henry did, too. You could see her brain denying the facts, and the words that flowed from the small child's mouth. I knew every word he said was real, I was the one who taught him - showed him the truth he so desperately needed to know. But I couldn't do anything to help him right now, even if I wanted to. Henry was the one who needed them to believe for right now, at least until Emma came. They were both very important roles, and they were the believers. Emma wasn't right now, but she would be. If Henry was anything like her, then she would be the same. She would believe sooner or later, and Henry would be the one who would make her believe. That's how it was supposed to go, how it was always planned to go. Right?

Henry looked up at her porcelain structured face. An exhale of relief exited my body, as I saw the recognition of disappointment in his expression. He knew that she didn't believe him, "I know more, but I think it'd be too much at once.. plus - a certain someone won't tell me much more anyway," he glanced at me, and grinned before focusing back on MM.

"I know it's weird to think, but I'm telling the truth," he kept his calm, and continued to talk, "and this guy, he's your prince. Prince Charming. And that..." he paused, and I watched as his eyes studied the dark dressed figure, "..that's my mom...the Evil Queen."

MM's countenance softened, as she listened to the hurt in Henry's voice. And for one moment, you saw her thoughts and her hurt for him. The walls she was holding up with struggle were starting to lower with each painful word Henry spoke. You could even see her loss for words, and her frantic searching for something to say.

"..Henry, where- where did you hear this from?" There they were again, her walls reversing and starting up again. Just like Emma, I guess it ran in the family.

Henry looked up at me, "Him. He's Pinocchio. He came here to make me believe, now it's my job to make everyone else believe, too."

MM's eyes locked with mine, and I saw many kinds of emotion running through them. The dark brown turned into an ocean of feelings, so strong and powerful you didn't even need to be close to know what she was thinking. They pierced me, in a subtle way.

"Pinocchio, huh?" MM forced a grin, and chuckled. A hand swept onto her hip, the classic woman pose for attitude and joyfulness in one. I knew this wasn't a good idea.

Henry could feel the anger in her words, even if she hid them well. He closed the book, causing a soft thud and swept it back under his arm, "I know you don't believe me, and you don't have to," more anger, more hurt, "I'll just get someone else to."

His feet started to guide him back to the door, and as on cue MM and I both stepped up to stop him.

"Wait, Henry," our voices collided together, and after an awkward glance between the two of us, Henry stopped and his shoulders slumped.

"Henry, its not that I don't believe you-" MM spoke up, "I just.. need some time to think.. didn't you?" She pulled that card. Being the young kid he was, and the fact that she was his school teacher who saw him everyday, five days a week - she knew how to persuade him and what cards to pull to make him believe in her. The roles switched in less than being here five minutes, of course.

"I guess.." Henry spoke up.

"Can I just have a word with..." she looked back at me, and awaited my name.

"August, at your service," I spoke for the first time in this entire meeting, and held out my palm, "Former Pinocchio." I grinned, and she shook my hand quickly - still uncomfortable with my presence.

"Mary Margaret," she introduced herself.

"I know," I chuckled, and saw as a mix of fear and befuddlement wash over her face, "I mean- Henry has talked about you.. yanno... being his teacher and all.." I quickly fixed my mistake of words, and clenched my jaw.

MM nodded gently, and glanced back at Henry before grasping my shoulder and pulling me farther from the small child, "Who are you and why are with him?" Her voice was sharp, and shot out in anger - anger I didn't even know she had in her.

I braced myself, I should've prepared myself for this - but of course, I didn't.

I rose my palms, to show that I had surrendered to her fury, "I'm just doing what I'm supposed to."

"And what the hell is that?" She snapped quickly back at me, and her small figure seemed to grow and tower over me. Wrong words to use I guess.

"Listen to the kid, he's telling the truth. It seems crazy, but its all true Sn- Mary Margaret.." I pleaded, even if I wasn't supposed to be helping. Henry was on his own journey right now, and I wasn't to interfere at all. Henry may be the one who's supposed to be helping them believe, but it's also his passage to help himself believe, too. I could see it, even if he hid it to the best of his ability. He didn't fully believe in it. Yet. He'll only fully accept it, if he knows that everyone else does. But I really hope I was misjudging him.

"That wasn't what I asked," She crossed her arms, and kept her expression emotionless.

"I know, I know - just, if you won't listen to me, listen to him." I sighed, as I was now pressed against a wall - like prey about to get eaten by its predator, "Even if you choose not to believe him, then pretend to. He's a kid, let him have this."

There was a long silence before she spoke again, "I should call his mother right now. I'm almost positive he was left with Ruby and Granny."

"You probably don't want to do that-"

"Or what? You think you can stop me from calling his mother about some creep that's filled his head with stories?"

"She won't even answer," my voice rose the slightest bit, and I exhaled deeply, "none of this makes sense to you right now, I understand. But the first part in making that child's mother come home, is to try and believe. This might seem like a funny prank, but it's far more than you can imagine."

"And why should I believe you?" She shrunk once more, hiding behind those innocent little remarks and fright she has when she's vulnerable.

"I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm asking you to believe him," I peered past MM, over to the young kid who stood by the kitchen top and traced the letters on the cover with his fingertip, "do it for James."

MM knit her brow together, and put her arms back down to her sides, "Who's James?" A soft chuckle escaped her throat.

I smirked, "He's that coma patient you've been so fond of for years." Bingo. I knew that was it, that was the key to get into her heart - her brain, her thoughts. She may not of known it then, but he was her true love. And no matter what realm, or curse, she would always find him - and her heart would always be vulnerable for his.

She was taken aback, and I could see the confusion that lingered in her dark eyes. The questions that popped into her skull stayed, and crammed. I knew she wouldn't ask much of anything, because now she knew something was up. Something about this was real.

"How do you know who that is?" She rose a brow, gave a small tilt of her head.

"I know many things Snow. Which you soon will, too."

* * *

The curtains were drawn, letting no light of any sort seep through the drapes. The lights were turned off, causing darkness to swallow everything that resided in the room. A luminescent glow occupied parts of the room, and lit up the tiles floors a few feet from the source. Moving pictures inhabited the small screen that hung above the ground. The audio crackled, and voices spoke - soft and sweet. Some not so much. They were cartoons, in no way shape or form a replica of a natural human or nature figure. Their actions and movements were off, but it was entertaining anyway. I could now see why Henry was so addicted to television. Since I had so much work, I never really had the time to relax and enjoy some good quality movies, or shows. The only things I really saw were glimpses of Winnie the Pooh, and Thomas the Train, when Henry was just a baby. And those were gruesome, and the worst of anything I had ever had to sit through and watch. But it had made Henry happy, so I did it for him.

A blonde sat closely to my bedside. Even if I was still bedridden, she managed to get closer and closer - until we were practically taking the same breaths in and out. She was curled up in the same chair she had slept in the night before. After the whole episode this morning, she went back to her day and worked hours upon hours before she had returned back to my room. A thick movie case, and some snacks grasped tightly in her palms, and a wide grin plastered on her face. It was nice having something to look forward to, even if it was the outcome of a head on collision.

Her blonde hair was pulled up in a loose bun, and secured with a yellow hair band. Her green eyes darted across the screen, as she watched a woman sing into a well. The irony of all of this is that out of all the movies she could've chosen, and occupied - she had chose Snow White and the seven dwarfs. I had to hold back a laugh when she showed me it with such excitement and exclaimed that it was one of her favorites as a child. Emma Swan was a piece of work.

"This part is so overrated," A soft voice broken through my wall of thoughts, and I realized that my eyes were basically glued to Emma. I panicked, and acted like I was glaring at the screen the entire time.

"How so?" I questioned, with an exhale.

Emma shrugged, and popped a sour patch kid into her mouth, "Yanno, the princess makes a wish for her prince - he appears out of everyone in the world. And then it turns into a sloppy love story."

"Then why did you say this was one of your favorites as a child?" I asked, confused - yet I completely agreed to every word she expressed. It was as if she read my mind.

"I was young." She glanced back at me with a look saying 'shut up' but cracked a grin following it, "What was your favorite movie?"

I grew cold, and fiddled with my hands as I tried to think up something to say to please her question, "I didn't really watch movies when I was young. And once I moved here, or - Storybrooke and... adopted Henry, all I watched was children shows that were literal hell." That wasn't actually a lie. It was the plain truth, and it felt good to get it off my chest. I never really had anyone to talk to back in Storybrooke, because nobody really cared to talk to the scary lady who ran their town. Who hid behind a desk, usually dressed in dark colors and glared at anyone in her way.

"Well that's okay - then what was your favorite horrific child show?" Emma giggled, and looked back at me with a smile.

I laughed back, to the best of my ability anyway, "Funny Ms. Swan," I shook my head. There was an eery silence, and the only noise that presented itself to my ears were the giggles and chirps of Snow White and the birds that were playing on the screen.

"Can I ask you something?" Emma spoke gently, "Or, about someone?" She was careful with her words, and she gazed at me with curious eyes that I couldn't help but stare back at.

"..Sure," I nodded after a moment, and waited for her question patiently. I had two people in mind, Jefferson, and Henry. It was either or just a random question that wouldn't make any sense.

"..It's about your son," she lightly rose her voice as her sentence went forth. Trying to be confident, yet to spare my feelings and thoughts. I could read her like a book.

I swallowed, and nodded softly, "What about him?" I furrowed my brow, and rested my head against my propped up pillow.

"I-I don't know, you mentioned him while you were kinda loopy," she giggled, "I guess I'm just a curious person, and - I feel like if I were you.. it'd be nice to have a friend to talk to and get some things off my chest."

I was taken aback from her words. Never has a single human being treated me with such respect - without me telling them to anyway. I sat speechless, and gazed into her eyes as if the answer to all her questions would be lying within them for me to see. I stuttered, and took a deep breath. She was right, I needed to let some things go and just talk to someone for once. This was the most socialization I have had since I was young - or kind and nice socialization. I let out my breath, and thought for a moment before I spoke.

"He's a wonderful, talented, and handsome young man. Who I love with honestly, my entire being. The truth is, I don't know how to love very well. But Henry, he changed that for me. He taught me how to love again, and how to feel again. Not many people in that town are fond of me, mostly all of them hate me. I have my dark sides, and I have my good sides. All they know is the dark, and the scary side that I possess. But what they didn't know, was that I was someone who loved to talk about her son and his day, and his friends - anything that had to do with him, I lit up and couldn't shut my mouth even if I tried. His heart it pure, and his smile can light up a whole city. Trust me - I've seen him do it. He's the smartest kid for being only eight years old, and the most adventurous. If you lose something, he'll create a whole plan and story to find it. Sadly though, he developed some of my personality - and weird quirks. But I guess that makes him, him. And I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world." My eyes started to tears up, and I held back my sobs as I didn't want to break down in front of her. She had to deal with my medical problems, she didn't need my emotional ones, too. As I actually studied her face, I realized she had tears in her eyes as well. The dark green turned into light green, and her eyes glistened. I could feel her sympathy and care, "I adopted him when he was only a few weeks old. I fell in love with him as soon as I laid eyes on him. And the crazy thing about it, was he loved me back. And if that's not magic, I don't know what is." I shook my head, and couldn't hold back the tears that swelled in my eyes. They flowed down my cheeks, and Emma's expression turned into sympathy. I wiped my stained cheeks, and I felt the warmth and comfort of a palm resting on my head - and gentle fingertips running through my thick hair. It was Emma.

"I'm even missing his ninth birthday tomorrow," more sobs consumed me, and I looked over at the blonde who sat next to me in comfort.

"I'm sorry Regina.." she sighed, "but I mean, the plus side is - he'll have many more to come." She giggled, trying to lighten the mood. And the funny thing was, it actually made me laugh. The angry, evil queen, actually laughed while she was hurting.

I guess magic can come in many different ways.


	7. Chapter 7

(( SOOOO IK I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN A WHILEEE... but I worked super duper hard on this chapter, even if it may not be the greatest. I hope you all enjoy it :) As much as I did writing it! ILY all sm. ))

 _"Happy birthday to you..."_

The flickering of the flame that blazed upon the wick of the spiral colored candles consumed my attention fully. The chanting and chiming of the legendary song that commemorated everyones day of birth resonated in my ears. I tried to tune it out; trying to hide behind the invisible wall that I surrounded myself with.

" _Happy birthday to you..."_

The repetition of words made me cringe, and shudder under all of their gazes. I usually thoroughly enjoy this day, the one day a year that I had to celebrate me. I should've been used to it anyway; being alone, or - not quite alone. Just without the one person I wanted to be here the most. She missed this day sometimes, due to her work and business that always kept her on her toes and busy. But I understood, and tried not to let it crawl under my skin. She always apologized anyway, calling me first thing in the morning to be the first to say 'Happy Birthday baby!'

 _"Happy birthday dear Henry..."_

Everyone's stare resided on me, I could feel their presence and the smiles that stretched upon their lips as they continued chanting. Their voices chiming together in a gentle harmony and tune, whilst I glared at the white and blue iced cake. Its fluffy texture and delicious smell was the only thing keeping me from shoving a small fist right through it. I may of understood why my mother couldn't be here, but that doesn't mean I wasn't angry.

 _"Happy birthday to you!"_

Cheering erupted from their lungs, and they put their hands together in an attempt to celebrate and show me how excited they were that I was getting older. As on cue, I forced a grin and inhaled a large breath of cold air. As I exhaled, the radiant flames on the candles vanished into thin air. More cheering, and graceful clapping and congratulating poured into my brain. It was overwhelming with how much was on my mind; but I accepted the compliments anyway, and shot smiles as my thanks. I thought this birthday was going to be different, with a mom by my side. Her bright and warming smile over my shoulder as I blew my candles out, and her excited clapping overpowering everyone else's cheer. She would treat me like this little prince, which I secretly loved, behind all of the glares I give her when she does.

I knew what my birthday wish was. _I wanted my mom to come home._

* * *

Everyone finally relaxed, and helped themselves to some of the legendary cake MM had made - even though Granny insisted twice before that she'd take care of the food and desserts. I would've had some myself, but I ended up taking a step back and watching everyone else enjoy the rich pastry. The gentle clinks and scrapes of forks hitting the smooth surface of the glass plates filled the hushed room. Small chatter emerged from some, others stuffed their faces with the dessert. I couldn't blame them, I've had MM's cakes before and they were far more than legendary. She'd constantly insist on bringing in some goodies to class, and feeds every student full until they had to call home because of a stomach ache. But no matter how many times those kids got sick, they never refused any of her treats.

I scanned the room for the man with the stubble and apparent post wood form. All I saw was the town's residents catching glances back at me with a smile and a welcoming wave, for which I had to politely return. After at least a minute of lurking and scanning, I felt a presence behind me which didn't really frighten me after all - because I knew exactly who it was.

"Lookin' for me kid?" August's deep, scratchy voice met my ear and I sighed as I turned on my heel to face his large structure. He had a gentle grin plastered on his face, and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, "Seem's like the town adores you," he chuckled, "kinda weird, but kinda sweet at the same time." There was his sarcasm that never seemed to fade.

"I guess I'm a likable person," I shrugged, forcing a grin.

"That you are."

I shifted on my feet and soon began to rock on my heels, trying to break the not so silent - silence that resided between us, "How many more stories do I have to tell to bring my mom home?" I spoke, glancing at the tiles under my feet.

"Huh?"

"Yanno.. how many more people do I have to tell these fairy tales to? It's not like they're believing me anyway..." I sighed, now being the one to stick my hands into my own pockets, "I'm just a kid, nobody takes me seriously."

August subtly glanced around, and lowered his voice a tone, "Henry, I know it's hard.. but it's only been a few days. It takes time, and I know patience is a hard thing to come by, but I promise you - it'll be worth it." He preached down at me, but those words flew over my head as my mind scavenged for the actual answer to my question which wasn't spoken.

"August, I wasn't asking for a hope speech."

"Sorry kid," his shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, "just trying to help."

"Hey, August-" A light chirpy voice arose from behind the bearded man. A tall woman, with long dark hair, with a hint of red, appeared, "I got you some cake.. thought you'd like some," Ruby flashed a gentle smile as August shifted his body to face the charming young girl.

His hand slid from his pocket, and tenderly grasped the paper plate from her grip, "Seem's like you're warming up to me already," he teased, "I knew you'd come around." Classic old August, being the smart ass he was.

Ruby rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress the smile forming on her lips. She trudged away, back towards the counter to go converse with Granny and Sheriff Graham.

August turned back to me, as he was licking some of the icing off his index finger, "Listen kid," he sighed, "the belief that you want to spark in these towns people; it needs to start with you." He rose his finger and poked my chest gently.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I furrowed my brow, watching his sly glances over to the waitress.

"You've gotta believe in it yourself first, Henry," he chuckled, "you always gotta ruin the fun out of deep meanings." He smirked, and punched my shoulder playfully before turning on his heel to make his way over to the Sheriff, Granny, and Ruby.

He always seems to leave out the most important parts of this 'mission' until I need them the most. It frustrated me, but kept me on my toes. I didn't know if that was a good, or a bad thing.

* * *

"Regina!" A bright and bubbly voice rose from the far corner where the door was swinging on its hinges. My gaze landed on a smiling blonde, who had a post-it note secured tightly in her palm.

"What is it now Ms. Swan?" I rose a brow, and grinned playfully. I was still bed-ridden, no movement of any sort or Emma would be on my ass and scolding me for trying to lift a damn fingertip. I didn't mind though, I secretly liked being able to relax and just take a break from work. But I had my moments were I wanted to say, 'fuck it' and get up to go get my own food for a day.

"If I weren't so used to nicknames by now, I'd think you were teasing me," Emma carefully sat on the edge of my bed, her twinkling gaze caught mine.

"And what if I was?"

There was an eery silence as Emma's eyes traveled back to mine; like a look of utter surprise. I spoke before I thought, and I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks as her smile widened. She tucked her head quickly after a few silent moments, focusing back on the neon yellow note in her hand. As if she was trying to hide the bright red that gathered in her face, too. Or, maybe I was just overthinking it.

Why was I thinking like this in the first place?

She cleared her throat, "Anyway-" her voice stuttered, "I know.. this is a sort of- _upsetting_ day for you.. but, I have a surprise." Her wide grin found me again, and caught me in a daze. What was happening?

"Look."

Her palm reached out, revealing 10 handwritten numbers on the yellow paper. I gently grabbed the note from her hand, and examined it carefully. As my eyes scanned the neatly written numerals, I realized how familiar they really were. The neatly drawn swirls, and curves of the numbers written in black ink sunk into my brain, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Is this?-" My voice cut short, and I lifted my head to search for Emma's familiar face again.

"I-I managed to find this number... it's located somewhere in a town called Storybrooke? I've never heard of it, it just appeared. Which is weird.. I mean, I searched that town up hundreds of times after you mentioned it and it never popped up-"

"I can call Henry!" I cut her off, and a wide smile spread over my face without my consent. My nine year old's cheesy beam found it's way into my imagination. His dark hair always falling over his eyes, obstructing his vision to the point that every few minutes or so, I'd have to push it back just to see his twinkling eyes. He always hated when I brushed it back, he said it looked weird and he liked it better down, "Would you rather go blind?" I'd always reply back to him with a wink. I could finally hear his voice again, after these days I've been gone. A week has it been? Or maybe even longer, who knew. It sounded absurd, it wasn't like I had been gone for a year - or even a month. But my overthinking mind never stopped turning its gears, which kept me on edge. I practically didn't have any fingernails left.

"I think so," Emma replied, and tilted her head with a smile, "I just hope the number works. I wanted you to be the first one to try."

I inhaled a large breath, and hesitated for a long silent moment. Her eyes searched me, in concern and patience. I was afraid, but by what? Disappointment that the number wasn't going to work? Probably. But I already had my hopes up too far to back out now, and all I wanted was to talk to my son. To hear his voice on the other end of the line yelling, "Mom! I miss you."

"Is everything okay, Regina?" Emma's gentle voice broke through my panic, and my eyes connected with hers.

After a moments pause I spoke, "I want you to do it."

"What?"

"I want you to call the number," I repeated, but as confusion rushed over her face I proceeded to explain myself, "if I call this number, and my son doesn't pick it up... I-"

"I understand Regina," she nodded, and held a gentle palm out to obtain the sticky note, "whatever makes you happy." I swallowed, and handed her the note. She gave me another reassuring smirk, and turned to reach for the telephone next to the hospital bed. I looked to the opposite wall, trying to distract myself - and fiddled with my thumbs in a way a child would. My ears recognized the clicking of the buttons, and the faint ringing of the phone. I tried - oh dear did I try not to listen to the continuous ringing. But everything else in the room seemed to be still and quiet, just to focus on the telephone. My eyes leered away from the white plastered wall, and over to Emma's pale palm wrapped around the phone that was held up to her ear. Her free hand rested on her lap, her fingers twisting and playing with the coiled wire connected to the phone.

The ringing continued for what seemed like hours, while I impatiently listened.

"Hello?" A faint voice spoke from the other end of the telephone, and my heart jumped to my throat. Emma's eyes lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July, and you could see her grip tighten to the machine. For a moment it looked as if she was more excited than I was.

"Hi!" She gasped into the phone, "Uh- my name is Dr. Swan-I mean Emma, my name is Emma Swan," she stuttered terribly, and shifted in her seat, "Anyway.. I was hoping you could tell me if a Henry is there? Henry.. Mills I believe?" She glanced at me, and I nodded eagerly. My hands were pressed deeply into the mattress, trying to raise myself into a sitting position - but I was too weak and still sore. My nerves were on end as I waited for the voice to return.

"In fact, deary - I do." The voice had an accent to it, the oddest and most recognizable voice. Anyone could pin point who the voice belonged to.

"Gold..." I whispered so quietly, only I could hear. But Emma's ears must've been like a hawks because she looked towards me with a furrowed brow.

"Huh?" She covered the end of the phone, and spoke to me in a whisper back. I shook my head, and grinned. I glanced between her green eyes and the phone, hinting that she should really be more focused on the man on the other end instead of my mumbling. She nodded back in agreement, and exhaled a long breath of relief, "Thank goodness," she laughed, "may I- or in this case... his mother would love to speak to him."

"His mother? I reckon a woman by the name of Regina is in your presence," he chuckled.

"Why.. yes, she is. Do you know her?"

"More than I would like, yes deary. She isn't holding you against your will is she?" Emma rose a brow, and her mouth hung open in bewilderment.

"No, why would you say that?" She giggled unstintingly, glancing to me. I shook my head, and rolled my eyes. Of course, he would be the one to say such a thing.

"Just curiosity, love. Now, correct me if I'm wrong - but did you imply that your name is Emma Swan?"

"Yes, that's me.." she sighed, becoming impatient with the overly long conversation, "is that some importance to you or something?" There was a long pause, and Emma and I exchanged muddled looks before the scratchy voice returned.

"I'll go get the boy for you now."

* * *

There was the gentle _ring_ of the diner's door swinging open, as another presence manifested itself upon the crowd. Everyone's chatter went silent, and eery eyes began to glue themselves upon the man waltzing through the squeaky door. My feet dangled over the edge of one of the stools as I tried to occupy myself with a vanilla milkshake made to my liking. Ruby's treat. My ears caught the bickering and kind voices stand to a halt, and I became curious. I lifted my head, and my dark eyes caught onto the black suit and grey hair awaiting.

"I'm here for the boy," his raspy voice spoke.

Nervous voices arose, and he shook his head in utter annoyance, "Henry. Your mother, she is waiting patiently for you on the other end of the telephone."

I sat there for a moment, questioning if I had heard him right, or I was just becoming delusional at last. But as everyone's eyes shifted onto me, including Mr. Golds - I knew I had heard him clear as day. I hadn't realized that I was stirring my milkshake nervously with my straw, but as I came to my senses I stopped immediately, and turned in my seat. I grasped the edges of the cushion, and lifted myself off the stool and planted my feet to the ground. I didn't say a word as I began to stroll over to Mr. Golds large and unsettling presence. I made awkward eye contact with many, but as my gaze caught August's I took in a deep breath and had to hold down a grin. I was _happy._ My mom was alright.

Mr. Gold moved to the side, and gestured for my exit through the diner door. I heedfully made my way past him, and to the outside world around me. Fresh air entered my lungs, and overcame the baked dough and icing. I didn't hear a single footstep behind me, so I glanced over my shoulder in curiosity. Gold stood a few feet away, with his hands folded in front of him. He rose a brow, and nodded to the telephone booth awaiting. I looked ahead of me, and practically skipped to the phone. My small hand grasped it, and it flew to my ear in seconds.

"Mom?" I shouted. My heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to pass out before she could even answer me back. Shuffling came from the other end and a voice from afar spoke, "I guess this is for you.."

There was a moment of silence before a warming voice emerged gracefully, "Henry? Baby?" As those words made their way to me, a large smile formed on my face. I wasn't able to help it, I was so happy to hear that voice again. My mother's voice, that calmed me when I awoke in the middle of the night from a scary dream. Or the voice that read to me until I fell asleep, after many, many stories. In that moment I forgot all about the fairy tales and the big bad Evil Queen, and it was good.

"Mom!" I exclaimed, and jumped in place happily, "Where are you? Are you okay?" Words spat from my mouth against my will. I couldn't hold them back, as hard as I tried.

A gentle chuckle arouse from the other end of the telephone and made its way to me, "Calm down Henry, I'm perfectly fine," her voice soothed my nerves with ease, "I just... I got into a bit of an accident, but I promise you it's nothing to worry about, okay?" The reassurance in her tranquilizing voice made my heart begin to beat at a steady pace again, and set my mind at ease. But I knew her, and I knew that she was making it sound far better than it actually was. But I didn't want to argue.

"When will you be home?" I asked pleadingly, my nine year old instincts and high pitched vocals revealing themselves for the first time since she had left, "I miss you..." I mumbled, a small part of me hoping that, that statement would somehow bring her home quicker.

"Uhm.." she hesitated briefly, and I could hear her shuffling on the other end, "..I'm not sure yet Henry." That wasn't the answer I wanted to hear, and she knew it. I didn't say anything back, I let the silence linger there until she thought of something better to say.

"But hey," her voice rose once more, like I knew it would, "you never gave me the chance to say Happy Birthday," she giggled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

I smiled, gripping the telephone harder, "I've heard it enough today," I snickered back, pausing. This time she gave me the silent treatment, because she knew it would work, "..Fine, go ahead," I sighed, even though I was impatiently waiting for her bright and bubbly 'happy birthday' that I wanted to hear so badly.

"Happy Birthday my little man," she said calmly, but you could hear the emotion and affection in her words - even through a telephone. My lips pulled back into a grin that stretched from ear to ear, and I didn't even try to hold it back, "I miss you with all my heart Henry."

"..I miss you more mom," I whispered.

"Now I don't think that is even _remotely_ possible, but I'll let it pass," she paused, " _this time,_ " a giggle erupted once more, which didn't help the smile on my face go away anytime soon. I giggled back, enjoying the temporary time I had to talk to my mother and get her caught up on every little detail, "what have you been up to?" She asked, and I could just imagine the slight squint in her eyes and the tilt of her head as she inquired.

Thousands of thoughts rushed to the front of my mind, waiting in line to be told one by one - but I ushered away a third of them. I couldn't tell her about August, the supposed 'Pinocchio' that had waltzed into her home and into her child's bedroom to talk about bedtime stories. She would flip, and call the police all the way from where she was currently resting - she'd go the whole nine yards to make sure he ended up in our county jail, or maybe somewhere even worse. And lets not even get started on the fairy tales. How could I bring up that I knew she was a former Evil Queen? And that I knew she cursed a towns full of people to suffer for the rest of their no-good lives?

Exactly. I couldn't. So, I stayed silent and talked about something else that I knew she'd be all about.

"Well, Granny and Mary Margaret threw me a surprise party.." I murmured, knowing fully that she despised MM with her entire being. And the fact that MM had contributed to throwing this party for me, my mother would sure put in some sort of word with her - hopefully this time it wouldn't be harsh and cruel. Now the fact that she used to be some sort of evil sorceress, a lot of this made a ton of sense.

"Oh, well isn't that sweet," the statement confused me, but I didn't question it. Not only was the actual declaration unusual, so was the way she had spoke it. It wasn't hatred that lingered in her voice.. it was more... sincere than anything I've ever heard. Maybe she was loopy on some medication or something, but it made the gears in my mind go haywire.

"...Yeah.." I drew out that statement, unsure of how to respond to such a sincere comment. Instead of my own mothers voice responding, there was a chuckle in the background. It was faint, but I could still point it out as someone other than my mothers, "Who's that?" I asked innocently, furrowing my brow.

"Oh-" she stuttered, "that's Emma. She is.. kinda the one who helped me when I got into that accident baby."

The name clicked, but I couldn't pinpoint where I had heard it before right then and there. It took me a few moments of genuine thought and retracing my memories until everything went together like a big old puzzle piece.

"August was right..." I whispered, thinking I would be the only one to hear - completely forgetting the large telephone that was raised and pressed against my ear.

"Hm? Henry, who's August?" She heard, and immediately fired back with the question I was waiting for.

I tried as quickly as I could to save myself, and August, from a hardcore scolding, "Oh! Nobody.. just - a friend from school.. yeah, me and him are really good friends," I was a horrible liar, and she knew that. But I was especially proud of the fib I had just told, I sounded confident in my own ears. And that was all I needed. I waited patiently for her reply back, hoping that she couldn't catch my lying through the crappy audio of a phone. My eyes trailed from the ground, up to the large tree that resided right next to me and kept me cool in the shade. But instead of finding a tree vacated with maybe the occasional squirrel - I found a stubbly bearded man leaning restfully against the side of it, watching me intently. I gasped, frightened by the sudden visitor I didn't expect.

She must've heard my gasp as well; I swear she has ears like a hawk, "Is everything okay, Henry?" There was her concerned voice I heard at _least_ once a day - no less. I was used to it, and sometimes enjoyed how worried she got about me, because it made me feel important and that all of her attention was on me for once.

My eyes widened at August, trying to communicate without all the fancy words, "Oh, yeah! I-I'm fine, a squirrel just scared me that's all-" I recovered twice now, that was a record that I would always remember, "yeah, I'm by that one tree that we always walk by when we head to Granny's, yanno? The one with _at least_ ten squirrels living in it," I forced a laugh, but at least I wasn't lying anymore. We did walk past this tree every time we walked to Granny's for breakfast, and it truly _was_ infested with squirrels. I never knew how many squirrels could live in a tree until I saw this big clump of bark.

"Is that so?" She chuckled, and I smiled. This was the first time in so long, that I had actually had a conversation with her. Normally when she was gone on trips like these she'd call, and maybe a minute later she'd have to go. I couldn't contain the joy that was springing up in my stomach. All I wanted to do was jump up and down and smile until my cheeks were sore. We laughed together for a moment, and in that moment I was happy. Happier than I had ever been, but of course it had to come to an end at some point, "..I think I've got to go, Henry.." I heard the disappointment and sadness that manifested itself in her voice as she spoke.

My mouth hung open, searching for words just to be able to talk to her for a little longer, "When can you call again?" I pleaded like a child, the innocence returning to my voice.

"How about this," there was her normal voice again, it was upbeat, but still soothing as ever, "I'll call my office at.. how about - 6 pm. I'll try to call everyday, but no promises. The more rest I get, the quicker I'll be home," my heart leaped into my throat and all I wanted to do was squeal in joy. No more separation, no more lonely nights without the reassurance that my mother wasn't sleeping just a few doors over in her bed. I had something to look forwards to, besides meeting up with August every now and then.

"That sounds.. awesome," I squealed, failing miserably at containing my excitement, "I love you momma," I whispered, pouring my entire heart into that one small meaningful sentence. Because I knew it would be the last thing I'd say to her for a bit of time, and I wanted it to be something she would remember and smile at.

"I love you too, my little prince," she whispered back, her words bubbling over with emotion, making my heart skip a beat and a bright smile spread to my face, "talk to you soon.." I heard her classic, 'Mwah!' into the phone, and then the line was silent. And as quickly as it went silent, I wanted her back on the other end talking to me about how her day went. Even if she had spent it mostly in a hospital bed, or wherever she was. I took my time putting the telephone back onto it's hook, a little part of me wishing she would call back - maybe realizing that she didn't have to go so suddenly and had a little more time for me. But that never happened, so I exhaled one of the largest breaths I've ever took and put the telephone back where it belonged.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the bristly bearded man shift his weight and turn his body towards me. I didn't even have to leer my gaze away from the coiled telephone wire to see that his lips parted, ready to either say something super important - or to make a sly sarcastic comment. He was really good at that last one, no doubt. I decided to speak before he could, just so I could get my statement across with no trouble and short talk.

"You weren't lying," I murmured, barely raising my head to gaze up at the former wooden man.

He stuffed his fists into his leather jacket pockets, like he always did when he felt uncomfortable or reserved, "...I know kid," he glanced between the soil and my timid countenance, until his gaze was fully stuck and focused on me. My head unhurriedly hoisted upwards so I could entirely scan August's emotions and comprehend the words he spoke better.

"I guess now, you don't have to worry about me _not_ believing," I forced a chuckle, my shoulders heaving up and down as I laughed. A bashful grin spread across his lips, as he tried to contain a giggle, too. He was still a kid at heart, you could just see it. His shy movements, and sarcastic and sometimes even inappropriate comments were a large indicator. He may of looked like a hardcore biker on the outside, but on the inside he was a soft snugly boy who liked to run free and do whatever he pleased.

"I guess so," he chortled, and his gaze veered off towards the settled telephone, "I told you she'd be okay."

"Yeah..." I shrugged, gaping at the unattended phone as well, "..thank you," I muttered, my eyes landing back on the sardonic man just a foot away from me now. His brow knit together, and his eyes did the questioning for him, "I mean, thank you.. for telling me all of this. Yeah, it kinda made me freak out a little bit but.. it feels nice to know that someone is looking out for me." I shoot my head, the awkwardness spreading like a poisonous gas throughout my limbs. I never opened up to anyone much, besides my mother and MM. Little did my mother know, when she actually put her full attention on a person and _genuinely_ listened to them.. she was one of the best listeners I knew. MM on the other hand, always puts her full and direct awareness on the person who is speaking, which can be a good thing. But, the thing with MM is that - she is a very controlling person at times. Whatever she says _is_ the best choice in her eyes, even if it sounds absolutely ridiculous in another's. So to have August here just listening and actually paying attention to each word I spoke without any input - it felt nice.

"There's no need to thank me Henry," his head swung side to side, "if anything, I really should be thanking you."

"Why's that?" I asked, confused.

He pulled his fists from his pockets, and took the last few steps closer to me to diminish the empty space between us. His palms opened, and he set them gently on my shoulders like a father figure would do to his son in the midst of a hope speech, "Because," he paused, as if I should know what he was actually talking about, "you're the own who.. lets just say - is going to begin the end. Without you.. this town would be stuck under a curse for all of eternity," he tilted his head to the side, "without you, Emma.. nor your mother would be where they are today. And that's together."

I furrowed my brow, befuddled, "You mean.. because she's my moms nurse?" I questioned, trying to make as much sense to his statement as my nine year old brain possibly could.

August shifted on his feet and his shoulders ascended upwards a few inches and back down in a shrug, "Yeah, somethin' like that," a corner of his lip pulled back to reveal a duplicitous grin that I didn't like at all. His unforthcoming utterance pulled at my strings in the most uncomfortable of ways, making equipage in my mind turn and work to uncover the actual meaning of what he was trying to say - but all I wanted to do was ask him more questions, maybe having the truth slip from his lips without his consent. But his strong arm wrapped around my shoulders, and turned me towards Granny's, "now how about we go enjoy the rest of your birthday party Mary Margaret worked so hard on," he said softly, glimpsing down at me before our feet started guiding us back to the scrubbed glass doors of the diner.

* * *

"Why'd you tell him you had to go?" My voice had risen at least a thousand octaves, just asking that innocent question in fret that it would somehow offended her in one way or another - and that was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I had helped her sit up, because she still wasn't fully able to do it on her own, so she could actually breath and feel like a normal person again.

"I-" she paused, her fingers were still fidgeting with the curled telephone wire, as if she was awaiting a call back as soon as possible, "I know that... if I talked on that phone for any longer -" with the shake of her head, her short dark locks barely skimmed her collar bones, ".. I'd just miss him more." Her voice had went from confident and emphatic to low and sorrowful, and as she spoke those last five words I realized how much she actually cared to hear just a slither of her child's voice. It warmed my heart, but at the same time it was heartbreaking. To be so far away from your child must've been tough, especially if just a few days ago you didn't know whether you'd be coming home or not to see them again. As soon as she had picked up that phone and heard that overwhelming exclamation of joy in her son's voice, I saw that darkness in her eyes vanish. Maybe it was just the sunlight peaking through the curtains, or maybe it wasn't. I hadn't seen her that happy and exuberant the entire time she had been in this groggy hospital, but I couldn't blame her. This place had it's ups and downs, sometimes more downs than I'd like - but it was where I felt at home sometimes. My shitty one - room apartment wasn't much of a cozy place to stay at times. But ever since Regina had been rolled through these doors I felt like I was attached to this crumbling building, like I could never leave unless I knew she was alright. And that was fine with me.

"I understand, Regina.." I responded as sympathetic as possible, trying my best to show her how much I cared - which I did care.. a lot. I wasn't always the best at showing emotion, and that was pretty cynical considering I was a doctor. Doctors had to give bad news sometimes, which required emotion to be given - along with deaths that happen and dealing with emotional people 24/7. How in the hell did I even get this job? I leered at her, watching as her eyes began to trail over to mine in what seemed to be shock. Shock?

She had knit her brow together before speaking, "..Why are you so nice to me?" Her stern facial expression softened completely as she muttered those few words. She had deflated from her big bad role, and just became.. Regina.

"Well, I _am_ your doctor for one.." I giggled, trying to lighten the mood, "but.. I guess it's because I feel like you deserve it." I exhaled deeply, trying to release the tension in my nerves. Why was I nervous, again? Possibly because after I had revealed my 'secret' to being so nice to the brunette, she had shot a gratifying smile towards me - like she had never heard such words in her life. Didn't she ever receive compliments? I mean, look at her - she's perf-

"Well.. thank you," she spoke up, her head lowered the slightest bit as I saw a red tint manifest itself on her cheeks.

"For what?" I rose a brow, the corners of my lips pulling tightly back revealing a shy smile.

Regina shrugged, or at least to the best of her ability as she was still stuck and immobile in a cast that wrapped securely around her torso, "For.. everything," she beamed, "nobody has ever been.. so kind to me - I mean, you _barely_ know me, yet.. I don't know, maybe I'm just overreacting," she shook her head swiftly, trying to brush off whatever mistakes she had made in that sentence.

"No, no.. not at all," I tried to inspirit her, nothing she had voiced was exaggerated or over the top. In my eyes, she had made no mistake at all. Her golden eyes glanced around nervously, as if she had never really thanked a person before - but obviously that wasn't true. She was nervous, and it made my heart beat faster in my chest for no apparent reason at all, "hey," I spoke softly, lifting my palm and resting it on top of hers like the many times before. Her fingers were fiddling anxiously with the hospital bed covers - gripping the sheet and messing with the lace. But as my cold palm rested above hers, they immediately stopped - relaxing under my touch, "you can always talk to me, don't be nervous or hesitate to tell me anything - because.. I'm not only your doctor - I'm your friend, too.." I swallowed, it was my turn to be skittish and tense.

Her chocolate eyes were glued to our relaxed palms, but soon gradually made their way to my own emerald green eyes. They lingered there for a moment, that felt like years - but I couldn't look away, like I was being hallucinated in some weird way. Her pink lips parted but words weren't spoken right away. I had to restrain myself from taking a glimpse at her plump lips - but they were _so close._

"..You thought we were friends?" I was shook from my daze, and comprehended her words quite quickly. My mind hopped between the feeling of being offended by that question, or just simply shaking it off because maybe she was just as shocked as I was when I assumed that we were more than just a doctor and a patient.

"Well.. yeah, I mean.. if you don't wanna be that - that's perfectly fine. I guess I just.. assumed.." I trailed off. My mind was so busy working to conjure up a reason why I had thought such a thing, I didn't happen to realize the ear to ear smile that was inhabiting on Regina's flawless face, "what?" I asked, knitting my brow together and releasing a forced chuckle. I had no idea what was happening, and it made me feel like a deer in the headlights. I needed to start thinking before I spoke, but I truly couldn't help it. There was something about her.. the way her dark eyes lit up and changed to a golden sky in the sun rays glow, or the way her smile could either scare the living shit out of a towns full of people, or warm the hearts of a million different people.. I wasn't sure yet - but I was sure enjoying the ride of figuring it out.

A giggle escaped her punctured lungs, "Nothing, it's just..." she paused, and I felt those orbs of beauty and glow scan across my skin before she spoke once more, "I've never really.. had a friend before.." her statement took me by complete and utter surprise, which I was guessing showed prominently on my face by the way she reacted, "I'm sorry.. that sounded - ridiculous," she shook her head once more, and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear shyly.

I immediately squeezed her hand gently for some form of comfort, "No, no it's not - it was just a bit shocking to hear that's all. I mean, look at you!" I exclaimed, and continued to talk before she could even react to my proclamation, "You're... stunning!" _Think before you speak Emma_ , "A-and, you're a mayor for gods sake! Everyone knows you, come _on._ There is no way in _hell_ that you've never had a friend before." There is was again, my dumb ass rambling - trying to fix mistakes and make it seem less.. creepy? I guess.

She rolled her dark eyes in a sarcastic manner, just like Jefferson would at points. _Jefferson._ I forgot to tell her - and I really did want to, but she cut me off before my mouth could start moving, "Well thank you, Miss Swan.. but no, I'm kind of a loner.. and I guess I _prefer_ to be alone sometimes."

"I really thought we were done with the nicknames, Madam Mayor," I rose a brow, trying to force back a smile but failing miserably. It got a gentle beam to arouse from her, which made it all worth it. Behind all the smiles and giggles, was my thoughts and doubts about Jefferson. I wanted - no, I _needed_ to tell someone.. to just talk. But I wasn't sure if Regina would be that person. Considering it was her son's birthday that she'd be missing, and she had just come from surgery just a few nights ago - I didn't want to ramble on and on about me. She didn't need anymore depressing news given to her, well hell - maybe it wouldn't even be depressing to her. She never knew Jefferson, he was just a doctor who barely did his job. All he did was come in late to surgeries, sneak snacks in his pockets and call everyone their classic nicknames that they were provided. Nothing more. He never visited his patients, to check up on them and see how they were doing - he merely just didn't care. Part of me was glad for his sudden disappearance. I thought that maybe the hospital was going to be okay without him, and that he was probably off a few states down flirting with a girl in a bar. Classic Jefferson anyway. But another part of me imagined horrific scenes and kidnappings - maybe he was hurt? Who knew. Nobody did. Not even I, who was the closest thing he had to a friend here.

He vanished - literally vanished. After he had his 'freak out' during Regina's surgery, he was just.. _gone._ He had just dematerialized into thin air, like magic. The last glimpse I had seen of him was when he had swung open the operating room doors full force, and marching down the hall - infuriated. I didn't chase after him, or tell him I'm sorry - nothing. _He_ was the one who needed to apologize, and I was willing to wait for that cheesy, "I'm sorry." But it never came. Instead he left, just abandoning his job, his family, and his friends. Everyone was worried, missing sign posters went up on the walls and on the streets - but of course Regina couldn't see that. Even if she did, it probably wouldn't faze her. They were never even properly introduced. Yet, he acted as if she was this evil being that would ruin the earth for good. The whole situation had me on edge.

"Is something bugging you, Emma?" I was reeled back from my jumbled mind, and back into the real breathing world. I didn't happen to realize Regina's eyes locked onto mine, like she was searching for every thought that had captured my attention for so long. My jaw hung open, as I pry'd myself for a reason. _Something_ , besides Jefferson. It wouldn't make a difference if I told her or not - it wasn't something that she _needed_ to know. She'd find out sooner or later, anyway. At least once she could finally stand up and get out of that shitty bed.

"Oh, no - I'm fine," I jumbled past my words foolishly, "sometimes, I just... get caught up in my thoughts," I pushed a chuckle from my lungs, wanting to get past the topic or else I'd spill about Jefferson and his disappearing act. Regina rose a brow, as if she was about to give me the same speech I had given her just a few minutes back. There was a small gust of wind, and the blinds that horridly covered the tiny window fluttered in the breeze. I could see the sunset through the slits in the blinds, the orange, yellow and red glow illuminating through the white plastic thoroughly. I pushed myself from the end of her bed, and trudged over to the open window. I stuck my arms under the blinds, and felt around for the very top of the pane. Once my fingertips wrapped around the indent, I used a slither of my strength to push it down and separated the cold air outside from the rubber glove scented room on the inside.

"Well.. my shift is ending kinda early today," I exhaled, turning to face the mayor once more. I stuck my palms into the small vacated holes that they called pockets in my scrubs, "you think you'd be okay for the night?" One corner of my lip pulled back, flashing a grin towards the brunette. I knew that she was fully capable of taking care of herself, even if she was bed-ridden.

"Quit teasing, Swan," she tried to suppress her grin, but soon had a smile that stretched ear to ear. I couldn't help but shoot one back. I strided back over to the side of her bed, her eyes watching every move I made like a predator about to pounce on its prey. I pulled the covers down just a few inches, and wrapped my arm around her waist that was secured tightly by a cast. I took my other arm and swaddled it around her shoulder gently. I lifted her just the slightest bit off the mattress, and moved her body downwards to where she could sleep properly and comfortably for the rest of the night until I got back in the morning.

"I'll be back in the morning to check on you," I said, carefully grabbing the covers once more and pulling them up to cover her body and keep her warm and snug all night. I knew how badly it must've sucked to be stuck in a cast that basically engulfed half of your body and kept you stiff as a rock. So I tried to work with my resources to try and keep her as comfortable as possible.

"So you're my babysitter, too?" Regina rose her brow, with a grin plastered on her face.

"Me? The _Mayors_ babysitter, friend, _and_ doctor - oh my, I'm flattered!" I smiled, the sarcasm overflowing through my voice. We both laughed, and I continued to basically tuck her in like a child.

"Well you should be, _anyone_ would be flattered to.. tuck in their Mayor," she burst into a fit of giggles and laughter, as did I.

"Of course, Madam Mayor," I chuckled, standing up straight again; Regina's eyes following me, "I'll see you tomorrow then.. goodnight Regina," I nodded, taking small steps backwards and towards the door.

"Goodnight Miss Swan," she beamed. This time it was her turn to tease, apparently. I tilted my head, and lifted a brow, "ugh, fine," we both giggled, knowing well that I wasn't going to leave without a proper goodnight. She ran a swift hand through her silky hair, and licked her lips.

"Goodnight, Emma."

* * *

The weeks flew by, and soon a month was gone. The constant visiting from home and then back to the hospital was a bit exhausting - but was completely worth it. Everyday you could see the light in Regina's eyes get brighter and brighter, and her body healing more and more by the second. I would visit her every single day, even on my days off. Just to keep her company, because I knew nobody else would. It seemed that everyone in the hospital had realized it, too. On my days off, I didn't have to sign in or anything anymore - they'd let me walk right past the front desk with the nod of a head and I would stride right back to room 108, where the flawless brunette rested. People usually kept their distance, giving us our time I guess. Regina got to call Henry almost everyday, at exactly 6 o'clock. She wouldn't wait a minute later, or call a minute before. And he would always answer. I had to be like a strict parent at times, trying to get her to give him a break sometimes - he was still a kid. I told that if she called too many times, by the time that she got home their cute little reunion they'd have wouldn't be so special. At least in my eyes it wouldn't, but considering how into her child she was - she could leave to go to the store, come back and they could recreate the most dramatic and heartwarming reunion in the history of reunions. But, when she did call Henry, they talked for hours on end. I would sit back and listen, or I'd play board games by myself that she was supposed to be partaking in. Sometimes I'd sit till midnight and just listen to her talk, until I could say goodnight and head home - but on other nights, when she was missing him more than usual, I'd stay.

Her recovery was going well. Very well, actually. She was able to sit up on her own, without that pesky cast getting in her way, and restricting her airways. The tube that was inserted into her lung the first day that she had arrived here was able to be removed just a few days ago. She had a few issues here and there, but once she got used to breathing normally again - she enjoyed the freedom from the tube far more. She was even able to stand up and walk around, now. As long as she was careful, and I was around just in case. Of course, from not being on her feet for such a long period of time, it was difficult the first few rounds. But once I was there, and had my arm secured around her middle back to help keep her steady, she seemed to be just fine after an hour or two. We did a few x-rays and scans every once and a while, and every time her ribs seemed to be getting progressively better. They were still healing, but they were healing well. Her spinal fracture had healed almost completely with only minor aches that medication could heal in a second, and some stiffness, but that was normal. Bruising and stitching trailed down her spine, on her upper right side from the collapsed lung and somewhere near her right side from her broken ribs. I knew she hated the scars that were to come, and the dark marks - but I reassured her almost everyday that they soon wouldn't even be noticeable and even if they were - she'd still be as flawless as ever.

The broken bones in her left foot were perfectly back to normal now, as it was only a minor fracture that needed a cast for maybe a week or two. But the infection was still there, still lingering. It came and went as it pleased, but I made sure to keep a stern eye on it just in case. You never knew with infection whether it could be dangerous or barely anything at all. It frightened me, but I never let her know that. Whenever I checked on it, I usually took mental notes and wrapped it back up just how it was. Regina didn't seem to mind either, I'd like to think that she didn't want to talk about it anyway and thought that everything was dandy and good. On the more bright and exciting side of things, I always looked forward to Tuesdays. Those were Regina and I's movie nights, where we would just sit and watch whatever films we pleased - and ignored the rest of the world for a moment. I'd go and pick up some snacks from the store, and waltz into her room with bags full of candy, chips, and sweets. It may not of been good for Regina's health, but I let her have a few snacks here and there whenever she asked. Who was I to say no to a mayor? Or bond had traveled through many stages, and sky rocketed farther than I had ever hoped. We had went from acquaintances, to doctor and patient, to friends and even best friends in a mere few weeks.

And I loved it.

I would hear stories around the office that whenever someone would walk by her room for whatever reason, all they'd hear was giggling, laughter and chatter. Which was probably true, considering we never stopped talking when we were together. She was like this orb of positivity and gracefulness. I still didn't believe that she had never had a friend in her life. She was this super easy person to talk to, and to just let everything off of your chest that had been piling up since day one. And as much as you revealed, she always seemed to have more. I learned a lot about her mother and father, some things weren't so happy, but every once in a while while she told me stories, she'd remember something - and it would be a beautiful memory, that she went into depth and detail with. Sometimes she'd skip past years of her life, and wouldn't touch on a lot of it - which made my mind crawl and want to learn more. But I kept my thoughts to myself, and was grateful for the things she'd tell me. And the bond we made... I wouldn't change it for the world. She just.. understood me better than anyone else did. And I understood her. I think we both were grateful for each other's company. And that's something I haven't felt in years.

Jefferson was still gone, like he had just left and joined the shadows. The longer he was gone, the more I began to worry. And no matter how many times I told myself to stop and think that maybe he left on purpose, and was enjoying life somewhere else - I just couldn't shake the fact that something bad was going to happen. Or maybe, it already did. I blamed myself for some point in time, but soon got over it and realized that - _he_ was the one who left. It had nothing to do with me. It was his choice, not mine. I still didn't tell Regina about it, no matter how badly it bothered me and tugged at my skin like some sort of rampaged animal. It was something I kept to myself, and I didn't know why. Good reasoning, right? Neither did I tell her about the boy in the crash. I planned to, but the day I was going to suck it up and do it - was her sons birthday, and I couldn't push myself to give her such bad news on such an important day. The large blue truck that had crashed head on to her, was owned by a young teenage boy who had, had a few too many drinks earlier that day. The reason he drank so early? We had no idea. With no seat belt, or any sign of resistance, he died on impact. Regina didn't know, and I planned on keeping it that way until she brought it up. It was a sensitive thing. She would think it was all her fault no matter how many times I'd try and reassure her that _he_ was the one who was overly drunk, and _he_ was the one in the wrong lane. But knowing Regina after all these weeks, she wouldn't listen, and she'd hold her ground even if it hurt her far worse.

My palms gripped the steering wheel tighter, the leather squeaking under my grasp. It was maybe an hour or two past midnight, I wasn't keeping track anymore. I had left the hospital and said goodnight to Regina maybe four or five hours ago, thinking I would go straight home and plop right into my cozy bed. But my plans seemed to change quickly. Fifteen or so minutes before I had planned to leave, I was doing the same thing I always did each time I saw her. I'd help her out of bed, and we'd walk around the room once or twice just to get her legs some form of exercise and movement. Lately, she has been able to walk with just a gentle palm resting on my shoulder for some balance just in case. We'd chat and have a good laugh every once in a while when she would grip my shoulder tightly when she thought she was about to fall. But this time, she seemed to be focused more on the conversation than her footsteps. Because somehow, someway - her leg gave out for too long of a moment and her grip on my shoulder slipped. My reflexes were quicker than I ever thought - as I felt her weight shift dramatically, I turned and my arms reached out, wrapping themselves around her casted torso, and just above her shoulder blades. Her soft palms reached out, and grasped tightly onto my scrubs. It was like slow motion, but happened so quickly I didn't realize what had happened. I lifted her back up slowly, and gently setting her back on her feet the way she was just moments before. My hand wrapped around the side of her waist, making sure she was balanced - and waited until her breathing was closer to normal.

"Are you okay there?" I asked, glancing between her feet and her eyes with a chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah - I'm alright.." she exhaled deeply, "I guess I just.. wasn't paying attention," her laugh filled my ears - and it was all I was focused on for the second it lasted. I remember locking my eyes with hers, scanning them - and making sure she wasn't lying to me about being okay. But after a few moments passed, I found myself still gazing and getting lost in her chocolate brown eyes. As was she in mine. There was no sound, besides the ticking of a clock on the far side of the room. My eyes slowly veered to her parted lips, but immediately pulling them away, knowing the mistake I had just made. I was sure she had seen it, too. But all she did was continue gazing, and swallowed nervously. I took in a deep breath, and she shifted on her feet, "..Well... thank you, Miss Swan." She took a small step back, and I retracted my hand from her waist. I was used to the nickname now, she used it _all_ the time and I absolutely loved it. I wasn't sure if she enjoyed the occasional 'Madam Mayor' comment, but I used it anyway. There was something in her eyes, that drew me closer - but I stayed where I stood, and let her fix her footing and set her palm back on my shoulder.

My headlights lit up the space before me, as I drove down the vacated roads that nobody ever used. I could speed as fast as i wanted, because no sheriffs ever bothered to come down here, considering they thought that everyone preferred highways and busy roads now a days. But me, I rode these roads whenever I needed a break - no matter the time or day. I would speed, or maybe even park sometimes to just sit and think. It was completely silent down here, besides the shuffling of grass and crickets chirping. None of it bothered me though, it was relaxing. But this time, my nerves seemed to be on the edge of exploding. I didn't understand my feelings anymore, they were just these burdens that came into my life and wrecked it. Constantly. It was just the way she looked up at me when I caught her, and the way her lips parted as if she was going to confess something to me before I ruined the chance. I was overreacting, I knew I was. But I still couldn't help it.

There was a buzzing, then a tone. It was a familiar tone, that made me jump up in my seat. The buzzing went on repeatedly, as did the the tone. It was my cellphone.

"What the hell.." I muttered to myself, as I stretched my arm all the way other to the passenger seat where the luminescence of my phone was lit up and buzzing. I grasped it with a sigh, and glanced between the road and the screen in front of me. I was getting a call. A call? At what.. three in the morning now? I squinted my eyes, to focus on the lettering on the top of the screen.

It read, 'Work' which by the way, also had a gun, and a heart emoji appearing next to it. I was a bit bipolar when it came to my job. I loved and I hated it with all my heart - but that was life I guess.

I groaned before answering, and raising the phone to my ear, "Hello?" My voice was groggy, and cracked multiple times in just one word. I was exhausted, they probably wouldn't even realize that I hadn't been to bed at all with how tired my voice sounded. A young womans voice came through the other end. I recognized it. It was the short nurse that I didn't bother to learn her name, the one who would check on Regina daily when I wasn't there. _Oh shit, Regina._

"Dr. Swan, sorry to wake you, but we need you down here immediately. It seems as if the infection in Ms. Mills left foot has come back. But this time.. this time it's not so good Dr.," her professional speech slowly turned into a worried nurse, which I had expected. I slammed on the brakes, my yellow bug jolting to a halt. The heart in my chest began to beat irregularly, and harder. My face went cold, as did my body - like I was the one with the infection instead of Regina. That _fucking_ infection.

"I-is she okay? Is she conscious, what the hell happened?" I rose my voice, but quickly brought it back down, knowing all she was trying to do was help.

"I went to do my hourly checkup, and she has a horrendous fever Dr. Please hurry. W-we believe it's critical."

I paused, silence taking over both lines and just leaving the utter shock and wretched air to breath, "I-I.." I was hyperventilating, "tell her I'm on my way."

And with that, I hung up the phone - throwing it wherever my hand felt, and speeding faster than I ever had on those gravel roads back towards Regina.


	8. Chapter 8

**(I'D JUST LIKE TO SAY, i understand the jumping between the two different settings (aka Henry, August, and then Regina and Emma) is weird. And in this chapter, the scenes with R &E are at 3 in the morning, while the scenes with A&H are in mid daylight. It's confusing I know, but I'm having Henry and Augusts scenes take place way earlier on in the day where R&E are right now. Because last chapter I didn't get a chance to write what they were currently doing in Storybrooke after all those weeks that had passed. So here, we're catching up on what has happened in Storybrooke, I believe their timezones catch up to each other by the end of the chapter (: enjoy)**

Needles; it felt like needles. No. More like knives, maybe? I wasn't able to pinpoint the exact feeling, but it wasn't amusing in _any_ way possible. There was no other way to explain it other than.. abhorrent, ghastly.. any other word that could describe just plain horrendous, that's how it felt. It didn't feel real, as if I was in a dream but pain was still feel able. There was burning, too. Like someone had set a fire a blaze on my left foot, and it was slowly spreading throughout my entire body. My eyes were still closed, and I was petrified to open them for the oddest reason. Like that pitch black that hid behind my eyelids were going to save me from the torture that lingered in my foot. The pain continued, and it gradually became too much to bare. My eyelids lifted, pulling me away from the darkness and unveiling an almost pitch black room, and my hands grasped the bed sheets underneath me. I was relieved to find no fire, no knives, no.. danger; but the pain went on. I didn't dare to move my entire left leg, for if I even I curled a toe the burning and the torture would worsen.

I gasped, and tried to lift myself up in a sitting position. My palms winded up into fists, the hospital sheets being squeezed and entwined between my fingers, as I used them for some leverage to hoist myself with my casted spine against the railing on the back of the bed. Of course, the cast that still resided and swathed around my torso and chest, didn't make this horrid situation any easier. I had learned to maneuver myself quite easily as the days passed, because I knew I'd be in that cast for a while. But now I was in panic mode, and couldn't take a moment to think and focus on moving my body in a way that'd be much quicker and far more comfortable while also being concealed in this trap of a cast.

My muscles ached, and I could clearly hear my pounding heart in my skull like a drum. But this drum seemed to come with a pair of drum sticks, that repeatedly thudded the inside of my cranium like fireworks going off in an enclosed space. This was nothing compared to how I felt in the crash - but I guess I was just a big baby sometimes. The big bad mayor of Storybrooke, and former Evil Queen was close to bawling in a hospital bed, and contemplating just cutting her entire leg off. Who knew? My jaw was clenched so tightly that it started to make my teeth ache, and the headache manifesting itself inside my skull, worse.

I needed Emma. She was the only person who made me feel safe in situations like these, not those grimy nurses who had their heads so far up their asses they didn't know how to treat any human being like they had a heart in their chest. _Well_ , who am I to talk? I had no room to judge, considering all the horrible things I've done... but all that pain, and all that misery always faded away when Emma was around. The gentle smile she gave when all she wanted to do was lift your spirits, was so warming, and sweet. Everything about her just fit perfectly, like a puzzle. She was different, _far_ different than anyone else I've ever met. And her eyes, _oh her eyes,_ were like these two globes of wonder and tranquility. They were safe.

 _I really needed Emma._

My palm retracted from gripping the sheets, leaving an elevated and wrinkled area of linen, and reached out towards my left leg, grasping it tightly as if that would stop the pain. News flash: it didn't. My nails dug deep into my flesh, threatening to break skin and draw blood. But that wasn't _anything_ compared to the grueling pain dawdling itself in my foot.

Over the past few weeks, Emma and I talked and talked nonstop. There was never a silent or dull moment, unless it was Tuesday and we were watching soppy Disney movies, or a comedy that Emma would lurch over in giggle fits over. I had remembered a certain conversation, one about how she felt the need to always keep me safe and secure even if she wasn't there. It was a completely serious topic for her, because she seemed like she mean't every single word even if it sounded like one of her cringy jokes. She had mentioned something about a button, but my whirling mind couldn't focus hard enough to pinpoint the exact memory of Emma's strict words towards my safety.

My body lurched forwards, the cast restricting my urge to curl into a ball. My head lowered, and I squeezed my eyes shut trying to calm myself and concentrate on my breathing for once. My dark hair fell over my shoulders, and engulfed me into a shadow. My chest heaved up and down, and it seemed like every limb connected to my body shook uncontrollably and out of my will. Heat was slowly but surely rushing to my face, and this time it wasn't a blush I desperately would try to hide from Emma's alluring gaze. _Wait, what?_ My mind was in shambles, with thoughts popping in and then leaving the next second. What in the _hell_ was happening?

 _Emergency Button._ That's what the hell Emma was talking on and on about. How did I not remember that? I didn't take a second to hesitate, and swung my head up, my eyes snapping open. Dizziness began to set in, and I felt myself leaning side to side without my consent. I placed a palm to my head, and squinted my eyes.

 _It should be here, where the_ _ **hell**_ _is it?_

I scanned my eyes over each wall that was closest to me, but the fact that it must've been the middle of the night, and the faintness that was rushing to my head didn't help my search in the least bit. The unpigmented walls were a blur, the only differences I could distinguish were the clique doctors office posters that I had been staring at and gotten overly used to for more than a month now.

 _There had to be a button._

No matter how deep I dug my nails into my calf muscle, the pain didn't lesson. I didn't want to be alone for any longer, someone _had_ to get me Emma. I needed my support, I needed her. I whipped my head all around, and began to feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. _Get it together and think, Regina._ I took in a deep breath, my lung stretching with air and slowly retracting as I exhaled. I felt the blood rush through my veins, and my heartbeat playing a rhythm in my head. It was funny how I could recognize those things, but not a _damn_ button.

I gave up on my sight, as it was no longer functioning correctly and resided to my trusty palms. I withdrew my fingernails from my skin, and outstretched my arm to my right and my left, trying to examine the barriers near me. My fingertips grazed over the rough felt drywall, finding nothing but peeling paint and a rare skim of smooth poster board.

My hope was lingering on the edge before my index finger skimmed over an elevated bump in the wall.

"..Fucking hell.." I exhaled deeply, my chest caving downwards. The relief I felt at that moment was the most comforted I had felt since Emma left just a few hours before. I used my other hand to push myself up just a few mere inches, and with only a few grunts and jaw clenching moments, I felt the gelid and polished surface of the button just underneath my palm. I didn't even care to look and make sure it was the right button, there wasn't any time in my mind. Nor could I even see clearly in the first place.

I used the rest of what little strength I still had in my bones, and pushed the button as far as it could go. Not only did I press it once, I slammed down on that fragile button as least ten times, hoping it'd make the help come faster.

Hoping it'd make _Emma_ get here faster.

* * *

"Hey, Dr. Hopper!"

Henry skipped over to the heavy coat wearing psychiatrist, vacating his spot next to me on the bench. His petite palms struggled to clasp and keep hold on the leather back book that he lugged everywhere he went now, as it was practically glued to his side. The ginger haired man directed his attention to the small boy galloping towards him, with a smile stretched upon his lips. His gaze gradually trailed over to me, and he lifted his palm in a polite wave. I shot a courteous nod back in the direction of the doctor, along with a grin.

Over the past few weeks... or was it a month now? Henry and I had become the social butterflies of the town. Every morning, we'd meet at Granny's for some breakfast. Henry, of course got the opportunity to get everything he ordered for free - considering he was the Mayor's son, _and_ everyone in the town adored him like their own. I, on the other hand, bought everything I ordered - so most mornings I'd either get nothing and suck it up, or a small cup of coffee. That one cup of coffee would be my life saver on most days. I'd have to chase Henry from place to place as he would chat up a storm to everyone on the block about the illustrations and stories that occupied the thick pages in the book. They'd smile, and listen intently as he would skip to the pages where their old selves lied. It was hard to tell if they believed, or were just being polite to the young boy. But Henry seemed to always be pleased with himself whenever we moved onto the next resident. As the days passed, more and more townsfolk began to talk about the stories. While some, had earnest conversations - others would chuckle and have a good laugh about it. I expected it; I mean, these people have gone years thinking they were someone else. They never questioned their lives before, as if it didn't bother them that they couldn't remember their childhoods or teen years. They were completely and utterly brainwashed, but they couldn't help it.

Then, weeks passed. Henry had at least talked to the entire town... twice. Maybe even three times; I quit counting after the third week of waltzing up and down the same street. Even after the excessive walking, running and circling the same town over and over... I was proud of him. I didn't expect his belief to skyrocket so quickly - but after that first phone call with his mother, his mind set had completely changed. All of his intellect was focused on the book, and the stories told in it. The more and more that he talked with his mother, the more he was driven to bring her home. From what I heard over the weeks, she was getting better. Slowly, but surely. No matter how badly I had despised that Evil Queen back in the Enchanted Forest, I was glad she was okay. Especially for Henry's sake, _and_ Emma's. Henry never asked about Emma anymore, I think it was because he knew I wouldn't spill anything about her yet. She was to be kept secret until further notice. If I would've told him about her on the spot, he would've gotten curious and done _some_ sort of research. I couldn't risk that, it was too important of information to say. And if he ended up hating me for not telling him in the end, then so be it. It just wasn't the right time, yet.

Another plus that came with Henry's adventurous personality and pull to share some fairy tales - was that I began to develop bonds with some of the residents myself. Everyone in town knew my name, August W. Booth. Whether it be good talk about the nice man watching over the Mayors son, or the bad - about the mysterious man who forced stories into a child's head. I didn't mind, because most didn't have a second thought about me anymore. Either that, or they were faking it. The dark haired waitress at the diner had warmed up to me far more than I had planned. She'd greet me every morning, and shoot a flirtatious smile towards me whenever we made eye contact. That was pretty alright with me, but Henry seemed to think it got old after a few million times. But part of me thought he was just getting jealous that his favorite waitress wasn't paying as much attention to him anymore. Mary Margaret still was a little cautious around my presence, she had barely spoken a word to me since the last time we talked at her apartment weeks ago. That James comment really played with her mind, and confused her in so many different ways - but I let her have her space. Whenever Henry wanted to go talk to her, I'd either wait in the background awkwardly, or find somewhere quiet to occupy my free time with while I waited for him to finish. I knew since the second I had met her back in Storybrooke that her and I wouldn't be on very good terms. She was Snow, for gods sake. I knew her for years back in the Enchanted Forest and I knew how stubborn she was. Now I see where Emma got that from.

"I swear I never see you without that thing anymore, Henry," Archie spoke up, kneeling to Henry's level as Pongo was graciously accepting the scratches and pets given to him.

"Yeah, well.. I always have it just in case I need it," Henry shrugged, scratching right behind Pongo's ear gently. Archie grinned at the small boy, and they began in small talk. I believe Archie was one of Henry's closest friends, since the kid didn't really talk to anyone at his school. He never talked about school period, besides MM. He was a real talker to the adults, and the shyest child you'd ever meet when he was around kids his age. He was somethin'.

I stayed plopped down on the bench, watching their interaction from just a few feet away, quietly. I slumped back, making my seating a bit more comfortable - knowing I was going to be there for a while from previous experiences. But the rough wooden surface didn't become more restful no matter how hard I tried, so I basically gave up and just relaxed however I was positioned. A flock of birds gathered in the grass, and began pecking into the dirt. My attention slowly focused on them, and their odd movements and manners. One would spread its wings and act like it was about to take off, but then stay and jolt its head back an forth gazing upon the rest of his winged friends. Their black coats shone from the sun beating down on their backs, and their beaks opened and closed releasing tones and squawks.

One of their heads popped up from investigating the ground, looking directly towards me. Then two, then three, then another and another. Before I knew it they were all studying me like a book - and I felt myself shrink in confusion. As quickly as I tilted my head befuddled, they were off, flying who knew where. No later than five seconds after their wings hit the wind, a shadow overcame me.

"Well hello, Mr. Booth." My gaze left the abandoned patch of now, flat grass and focused on the tall figure standing above me.

"Gold. Long time no see, huh old buddy?" I rose a brow, pulling one corner of my lip back in a smirk.

"Mind if I sit?" He asked, in that damned tone that you knew he was going to sit anyway. I didn't know where the hell he came from, but now I knew why those birds flew so quickly away. I would've too, if I could fly. He just had _that look_ to him that sent chills down your spine, and the hairs on your arms stand straight up. And if his appearance didn't say anything, his personality sure did. I shook my head the slightest bit, and motioned my hand for the open seat next to me.

"Should I call you Mr. Gold, or is Rumple a bit more formal?" I joked, but didn't laugh. He sat down and tugged at his loose fitting suit before whipping his head over to look at me.

"Yes, I've realized that the boy has had a very open imagination lately - I wonder who's behind it," he snapped back, in his usual snarky manner. Funny how even after the curse, and loss of memory he still seemed like the same old Rumple as before. I glanced over his shoulder, and found Henry still chatting with Archie. He was now sitting cross legged on the plush ground, with the book open in his lap. Archie was kneeled down next to his small figure, examining the pages as Henry flipped by them one by one.

"Hey, don't look at me," I looked back at Gold, his gaze fixed on me like I was his prey, and he was my predator.

"Everyone is looking at you - it seems like you've become buddy buddy with every resident in this town."

"Well, I can't help that I'm completely irresistib-" He cut me off quite quickly, before I could even finish my snarky comment.

"Odd, how you showed up as soon as Ms. Mills left Storybrooke. Considering that you went straight towards her son." Crinkles deepened themselves as his brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips together waiting for some clever response back.

"I know, it was kinda weird timing but - I have a job to do here, that involves Henry and this town. You'll figure out soon enough," I scratched my jawline, and glanced away from his intimidating gaze before I was forced to look back.

"And what does Henry have to do with this job of yours?" The slight twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, hinted to me that he knew more than he was showing. He always did - no matter what curse, or spell that was thrown upon him; he'd always be Rumpelstiltskin.

I took in a deep breath, and turned my body the faintest way towards him, "Henry's job is to lug that old book around and tell people fairy tales. But of course, if you'd like the more complicated and detailed version, he has to make the people in this town believe that they were once, many years ago, fairy tale characters. Now go ahead, tell me I'm crazy, threaten to call his mom, and whatever else you'd like. I'm sorta used to this by now," my voice had risen throughout the explanation, without me meaning to. I had gotten so used to being scolded for putting stories in a child's head, I knew exactly what to say and how to say it, " _and,_ if you were just dying to know, or if this would make any difference on your perspective - I'm Pinocchio. The great all mighty wooden boy-"

"Yes, yes I know who you are August."

"..What?" I turned my head, my brow knitting together quickly, perplexed.

"It seems that I had.. come to an agreement with the queen before her pretty little curse was unwound."

I hesitated, "So... you remember?" I asked, squinting my eyes and shifted in my seat. This most definitely was not part of my plan at all.

"That I do."

"Well... then, you should know why I'm here, right?" I peered at him, as if it was going to unleash all of his secrets and thoughts.

"Actually, I don't. That's part of the reason I came to talk to you." I almost laughed. Him? The great and powerful Rumpelstiltskin, going to another person for _help?_ Because he didn't know something? Shocking.

"What's the other part?" I asked, my voice quivering only the slightest bit. You never really knew what to expect from this man. He was unpredictable, and scary. The only thing you knew about his next move, would be - it was never good.

"Emma Swan."

I almost scoffed at the comment after the shock that overtook my limbs. How in the hell did he know who she was? She had never took a step in Storybrooke, and he was no where near Snow and Charming before the curse was struck, "You expect me to tell you such information? You know, just because were in a different world, and the circumstances are far different - doesn't mean I'll fess up to whatever you ask me. You're still the good ol' Rumple that I remember."

He instinctively rolled his eyes, and his grip on his cane tightened noticeably, "Well, August.. if it makes you feel any better about the situation - I know she's the savior."

"How do you know that?" I snapped, almost protectively - like he was trying to crawl into my head, so I had to shield all of my thoughts. A smirk appeared slyly on his lips, and he tilted his head before speaking. He knew I was under his boot now, because he knew just as much as I did. Maybe even more.

"Long story sonny.. but - I have a question for you now," I saw the twinkle in his eyes that only showed itself when he was about to manipulate and conquer. I didn't nod, or say 'go ahead', I just stared, trying to get the gears in my mind rolling and working again, "does Regina know that? Considering she and Emma seemed to find each other and hit it off quite quickly, no?"

"What, that she's the savior?" I furrowed my brow, leaning towards his presence the slightest bit in anger and confusion, "Of course Regina wouldn't know, not even Emma knows.. yet." I sighed, my gaze shifting to the ground in thought.

"This savior.. could potentially ruin her entire plan to keep this town under a dreaded curse. She's going to feel manipulated... used - by one of the only people who care for her right now. How does that make you feel, August?" I looked away, my line of sight trying to escape the glare of Rumple's malicious eyes. He knew he was breaking me, it didn't take much to from him. The shitty thing about everything he was saying was that - _he was right._ Emma was Regina's only friend right now, someone she actually cared about for once in a long time besides Henry, "What is this Swan to Regina? Her supposed lov-"

"The curse needs to be broken." I cut in quickly, not letting him finish anymore sentences - or letting anymore words flow from his lips. But no matter how hard I tried - he wouldn't stop. He knew exactly how to shut someone down with only a few words.

"Just think, how heart broken Regina will be when she finds out her... love, is the person destined to break her beloved curse?" I stayed completely silent, trying to ignore his presence and let his words bounce off of my brain - but instead, my mind sucked in all of them, "I think you and I both agree that, your little plan needs to take a break and sit back for a while. Regina has lost love before, and look where that's landed us. I surely don't want to go back to that grimy forest, I like it here. And it seems like you do, too.." his dark eyes glanced over my shoulder for longer than I liked, so I pulled my brow together in confusion and strained my neck to look over my shoulder. A tall brunette was a few yards away, walking along the sidewalk - heading to a familiar diner. _Ruby._

I scowled, angry that I was allowing myself to be this meat - this prey for him, "These people need their memories back, and you know it!" I rose my voice close to a shout. I saw the head full of dark hair turn from behind Rumple. It was Henry - and I guess I shouted a little too loud.

Nothing stopped the man in front of me, though. The devilish smile that danced upon his lips deepened and the crinkles around his eyes became more noticeable, "How is Henry going to feel when he figures out that you set his mother up for heartbreak and failure?" That tugged at my heart, and stopped air from entering my lungs.

"..I know what you're trying to do."

"What? I'm just trying to save everyone from getting hurt.. that's all," he tapped his foot, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Henry's presence slowly becoming larger and larger as he was approaching and saying his goodbye's to Archie and Pongo.

"You're trying to stop the curse from being broken, for your own selfish needs!" I furiously whispered, not wanting Henry's ears to pick up any words or sentences that were being spoken. We had a 'glare' off for the last few moments we had alone and away from a child's ears. No words, just anger radiating heat off one another in the most awkward and intense of ways.

"Hey, is.. everything okay?" The mayors son finally reached the side of the bench, and glanced nervously between us two men who were suspiciously glaring at one another. Rumple broke the eye contact first, and fixed his grip on his cane before speaking once more.

"Yes of course Henry, I was just on my way," he put all of his weight on the cane, lifting himself up clumsily from the wooden bench and trying to balance on the unsteady grass below him, "it was nice speaking to you again, August." The monotone in his voice made me cringe, and I watched cautiously as he limped off, back to wherever the hell he came from.

Henry's dusky eyes caught mine, and gave me a befuddled tilt of the head and raising of a brow to hint to me that he was obviously confused and wanting to know the scoop of drama that had just happened on a park bench. But I didn't speak, I just glared back at him with a disappointed expression and a large inhale that turned into a defeated sigh. He knew I was clearly upset, but he luckily didn't know why.

Thank goodness for curly haired psychiatrists, and spotted dogs.

* * *

The automatic doors that led into the rubber glove scented vicinity couldn't open fast enough for me. I was still in my scrubs, as I had just been in the same building doing what I was paid for just a few hours or so ago. I ran up to the glass doors, hopping on my toes and mentally trying to rush their automated opening. As soon as the gap was large enough for me to squeeze through, I continued my anxious half run, half walk. I just wanted to get to Regina. The thought of her in grueling pain for longer than she needed to be made my heart ache. I told her I would take care of her, and that I shall do. With every step I took on the polished floors, my white sneakers squeaked and squealed with my pace, and I felt like I was getting nowhere. Like I was stuck in the same spot no matter how fast I ran. The bland walls continued down every hallway, along with the same tiled floors and replicated doors that were the exact distance apart every time.

Nurses and fellow workers pulled their brows together and gave me muddled glances and glares as I traveled down halls antsy and tenser than ever. I was panicking - I was just one hundred percent frightened, not for myself. For Regina. I knew I should've kept a better eye on that damned infection. I knew it lingered, and disappeared every once in a while - but it always came back no matter how hard I tried with the antibiotics. I checked her foot everyday, maybe even two or three times until she got annoyed with me. I should've checked it four or five, and ignored her rolling eyes and snarky comments that I adored.

My legs carried me through the maze we called a hospital - my mind leading me down the same path I took every single day. I took a sharp turn into the hall where Regina's room was located, and felt my heart skip a few million beats as I heard a grueling yelp and howl resulting from some form of pain. I knew it was Regina, it had to be. Who else in this exact hall was suffering from an infection at three in the morning? I almost stopped in the tracks after I heard the yelling; scared that whatever I was going to walk into was going to break my heart and shatter it into a trillion pieces. But I had to remind myself that no matter what I did, and the time that I took to prepare myself - it wouldn't change the situation and the feelings I would express and manifest in my brain. So, I kept walking. No - running. I took leaps farther than I ever had before, and finally reached the white plastered door that separated me and Regina.

My shaky palm reached out and grasped the door knob tightly, tight enough to indent my fist print into the metal surface. The tendons and veins in my hands and arms strained and stuck out noticeably, and the blood in my body rushed quickly to my head as my body felt like it was filling up slowly with hot and cold air. I twisted the handle quickly, surprised that the projection didn't rip from the door and break completely. I pushed the door open straightaway, and watched a whole new scene unfold out before me.

There were only two nurses present in the room, and that made my blood boil. I wanted a whole crew, at least five people in the room with her. Watching and making sure that nothing drastic would happen while I wasn't there. One nurse was placing a cool rag on her forehead, and trying to keep her as calm as possible as the other nurse examined her infected foot. She was unwrapping it carefully, glancing back and forth between the foot and Regina. I recognized the nurse who was analyzing the infection. It was the same one who had called me down - Regina's main nurse that basically stepped down after I took over and watched Regina myself. Her eyes met mine, but I quickly looked away and my gaze landed directly on the brunette woman who was straining herself from screeching out in pain.

"..Regina," I murmured breathlessly. The nurse that was present at her side speedily moved out of the way as I galloped over to Regina. Her jaw was clenched tightly, and her eyes fluttered open as she felt a different existence next to her. I examined her facial features, and her dark eyes as they opened and met mine. Instead of the eery chocolate color I had seen for weeks on end, was now a golden yellow and green like she had been crying for hours upon hours. She took in a sharp breath, and her cold palm instantly wrapped itself around my wrist as pain shot throughout her body. After she collected herself, and managed to hold back the tears in her eyes - she gazed up at me.

"Back again so quickly, Swan?" She said dozily. I would've giggled at the use of my nickname, 'Swan' - but it just wasn't the time. My lungs expanded as I inhaled deeply, and felt tears gathering to my eyes. I knew she mean't it as a joke, but I could see it in her eyes that she needed me - and that she was glad I was back. She tried to grin, but immediately stopped as another wave of pain washed over her. I lifted my hand, and placed the back end of my palm to her cheeks and forehead - trying to feel for a temperature. Without delay, heat was found and was basically radiating from her body like a furnace.

"She's burning up," I stated, unable to pull my gaze away from her pale face. She had dark circles under eyes, and her eyes were completely bloodshot. The grip she had on my wrist tightened, and I gently placed my palm over hers in comfort - but I knew it wouldn't help at all, "why didn't anyone give her anesthesia?" I snapped, glancing between the two nurses I was between. They both looked to each other for an answer, but not one was given. The anger I was feelings, was finally starting to show - and reveal itself from under my skin. Regina's 'main' nurse spoke up after a few moments of my blood boiling.

"I - we just thought-" she stuttered terribly, so I decided to just cut her off completely before she could embarrass herself furthermore.

"Get her on some," I said sternly and paused, then I felt another tight pulse on my wrist, "now."

They rushed around the small room, and finally hooked her up to some anesthesia. It made me feel far better about the situation, and obviously would make Regina feel better, too. As soon as her veins began to flow with the medicine, I felt her muscles relax and her grip on me loosen. I held my palm over hers for a few more moments, knowing I had to let go eventually. I wanted to sit there, and watch over her until she finally fell unconscious, but knew I had to do my job. I gracefully lifted my hand, and gently had her release her grip. I sat her palm back down to her side, and she watched me woozily. I forced a small grin, before trudging my way over to her foot that the nurse was still unwrapping carefully. The nurse scooted over, and waited patiently for me to stick my hands into the tight elastic gloves. I turned, and grasped the edges of the wrapping around her foot, but glanced down at Regina for the slightest moment. I gave her the most sympathetic look I had in me, and then continued unwrapping. It was layer after layer, until I finally reached the surface of her skin. Her foot was swollen horribly, and was discolored with yellow, and irritated. My breath got hitched in my throat as I studied the distended foot. No wonder she was in so much pain, it looked horrendous.

"If only Jefferson was here.. this needs all the help it can get." The nurse next to me sighed, catching me off guard. I furrowed my brow, and turned my head slowly to look down at her in a mix of anger and befuddlement. She knew how close I was with Jefferson, and the bare mention of him made my heart hurt. She obviously didn't see what she did wrong, because as I looked to her - she looked back at me with confusion in her eyes. I wanted to scold her, to tell her to watch what she says before she's the one in the hospital bed instead. But I was reeled in from my thoughts.

"What?" Regina spoke up, her drowsiness creeping through.

I turned my head, and saw Regina trying to lift herself up to see what we were doing. Or I, anyway, "Sh, sh. Lie down, Regina." I whispered, in the calmest manner possible. What I figured out over the past month or so, was that it took a while for Regina to finally become unconscious. She was tough, and stubborn. Those didn't mix well, and resulted in an awake but relaxed Regina that cracked me up through her wooziness.

"I.. thought I got rid of that bastard years ago.. - ow! Dammit..." she muttered, and my mind completely blew over the fact of what she had stated before the 'ow' portion. I was too focused on keeping her comfortable, and safe.

"..Sorry, Gina-" I stuttered, and continued to attentively investigate her swollen foot before I realized what she had said. My mind clicked, and I licked my lips before speaking to dazed Regina, "wait, what did you just say?" I asked, expressing my voice loud enough for her to hear it. She lifted her head weakly, and squinted her eyes - trying to focus.

"Ow?" She glared at me in a sassy, yet perplexed manner.

I shook my head, "No, before that Gina." Gina had become her official nickname to me. I used it whenever I pleased and she never objected - so it stuck. To Regina, it was better than 'bossy mayor', or Madam Mayor. Even though her and I both knew she liked Madam Mayor more than she cared to admit. Just as much as I didn't want to admit that Miss Swan was something I'd die to hear everyday. She began to glance around the room in thought, even if no ideas or answers came to her brain she kept trying.

Her feeble palm held the cold rag to her forehead, "Oh.. that-" she muttered.

"I thought you said-" I started to speak, but was cut short as Regina's lungs gasped for air. She threw her head back into her pillow, as another grueling pain sprouted from her foot what was in my hands. My heart dropped, and tried to release as much pressure as I could from her swelling limb - but I knew it wouldn't lessen the pain much more, "get her more anesthesia, this isn't going down without a fight," I sighed, and tried my best to keep her foot still as her body writhed and squirmed to try and escape the agony. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted, and felt like there was this weight on my chest, weighing me down. So many things were twirling and piling in my mind, even before I got the phone call for Regina. Feelings I didn't want to feel, and thoughts I didn't want to think. Now, more and more were being added to that pile of junk - and I couldn't help it.

As the nurses swarmed around the room and began to stock her veins even fuller with anesthesia, Regina lifted her arm in a manner that i thought she was reaching for her leg. But instead of her palm coming down and grasping her calf, it stayed mid-air. Something that you'd see in a movie, where magic would sprout from their palm and do either something destructive or something helpful. I saw her eyes search her hand, her muscles straining in her bicep. She knit her brow together in confusion, and all in just a few seconds her mind went from confound to comprehension. As if her mind clicked, and she saw the mistake she was making.

"..Shit," I heard her mutter through all of the clattering and movement in the small room. I was the one puzzled now, but I was also curious as to what she thought would happen. Again, she _was_ on anesthesia, so she was a bit loopy. But, it was still odd. I shook my head, towing myself from my contemplation. I needed to get this infection fixed, and Regina better. This was no time for overthinking and curiousness.

I cleared my throat, gathering the nurses attention, "We need those medications, and she needs prepped for surgery, _now."_ They obeyed my orders and started to run around the room like bee's in a beehive. I tried to heedfully wrap her inflated foot back up, but didn't secure the bandage, knowing it would be too much pressure for her. My eyes swept from dressing, up to Regina's cocoa brown eyes that were now struggling to stay open. She gazed right back at me, and the twinkle in her eyes made me believe that a bit of the normal Regina was peaking through the woozy one. I knew that look, I knew her. In the mere month or so, I had learned more about her than I ever thought I would. And she knew more about me than I had ever imagined. I wasn't the type of person to open up, nor was she. But together, we weren't afraid to tell each other anything, we were open books just waiting to be read.

I leered down at her with a painful expression, and watched as the anesthesia took over and finally pulled her into an unconscious state. Her chocolate brown eyes closed, and became just soothing restful eyelids. This was going to be the last time she'd have to undergo the sleeping drug. I wasn't going to have her suffer any longer than needed in this dreadful hospital. I wanted her to get home to her son just as much as she did. Not because I wanted her gone, I just wanted her to be happy.

With, or without me.

* * *

I was at least a good fifteen steps behind August's fast pace. My short legs were no match compared to his lengthy ones and determined mindset. The storybook I lugged around was difficult to maneuver at times, and this was one of those times. It slipped and fell, and bounced around in my arms like a squirming baby. I didn't know a book could be so much work. Or it possibly could've been because I was struggling to keep up to the prickly bearded man who seemed to have no interest in me at the moment. I tried my hardest to take larger steps than usual, but that didn't help. So I resorted to making myself noticed.

"Wait up!" I shouted, wrapping my arms protectively around the novel as I began to run to August's side, "What was that all about?" I asked, referring to Mr. Gold's strange approach that had just happened moments earlier, before he stood up and decided to run away from me. Now I see why people were afraid of him when he first entered Storybrooke.

"Nothing kid." His raspy voice spoke up. I decided to ignore the 'kid' part of the short response, and continue with my attempt of a conversation with Mr. grumpy pants.

"You sure about that? I heard you guys arguing..." I trailed off, trying to stay within my safety boundary and not wanting to anger him anymore than he already was.

"He knows everything." He snapped, and continued walking faster than a normal human being would on any normal day. Which I mean, yeah, he wasn't a _real_ human being. He was Pinocchio, just in... human form? I confused myself over my ridiculous thoughts more than his statement. Like I usually did.

I tilted my head, even if he didn't see it, or care to look, "Well, isn't that a good thing?" I asked. It was _his_ words that I went by. He said that the more people believed, the quicker my mother would come home. But now, he was saying that it was a bad thing that someone knew and believed everything. Adults are complicated, that's my verdict. Because there wasn't any other explanation that he was caring to give to me.

"Not exactly." I was tired of the short responses, and grumpy attitude. I wanted the August I knew just an hour earlier, who liked to talk to me. I know, I may of been acting like a total nine year old who wanted attention - but it sucked knowing that he was all you had for the time being. Especially when your mother was still bed-ridden in a hospital. But I decided to kill him with kindness, and act as if he responses didn't hurt.

"Hm. What's so bad about him knowing, then? Doesn't that mean we're closer to bringing my mom home?" I asked, trying to pull at his strings to make him break and spill what had actually happened on that wooden craft. August continued walking swiftly to whatever his destination was supposed to me, and I relentlessly tried to keep up.

He took in a short inhale, "He doesn't want us to break the curse." His cavernous voice struck me hard this time, as the words flowed past his lips. Why would a cursed resident, not want the one thing that was keeping them from their true selves, broken? Then again, I was a young boy who barely knew how to write the word, 'occurrence' properly. I had to believe August on what he said, because he was the only adult around that truly understood this book and the actions of people in this town.

"W-Why not?" I stuttered over my words, still partially digging through the junk pile in my mind that were my thoughts. I glanced up at August, and watched as he clenched his jaw a few hundred times before he even thought of answering my question.

"Listen, just keep on doin' what you're doin' kid. Keep making these people believe, and I'll handle Mr. Stiltskin. No matter what the consequences, we're taking these people back home and breaking this curse for good." I would've stopped and stared in shock at his response, only that I was still fighting my way to match his pace and catch up to the man. All I could do was widen my eyes, and listen intently.

"Consequences? I thought all we were doing was helping - I didn't think there were gonna be consequences," I questioned, oddly befuddled. I knew that the only problem we had, was my mother. Which to _me_ , she wasn't a problem in the least. Maybe to others, but not her own son. Now, the consequences August spoke of - I had no idea what they were. And I knew he wouldn't tell me, no matter how hard I tried. I continuously pried to know who the Emma girl was, but he didn't peep the slightest of information that was useful. Then, I got lucky. My mother called, and at some point in the conversation she mentioned an Emma. Her doctor - that's who Emma Swan was. But what had confused me the most, is that even after all these phone calls with my mother - and the nonstop speaking of Emma, all she was, was a doctor. Nothing more. So why was she so important to August? Why was she this _huge_ secret that had to be kept? I'd probably never figure it out until the day I day, if I was lucky.

"Yeah. Me too," he reeled me back to reality with his words that were now softer than before. Like he was trying to be sympathetic, and kind. Who knows, maybe he wiggled himself into my mind and found out the mistakes he had made and decided to be a little less harsh for once today. Or maybe I was just delusional.

Yeah, probably that last one.

* * *

I ran my hands down the crinkled sheets, smoothing them down to hug tightly around the mattress. The room was a mix of white, yellow and orange as the lowering sun swept through the thin curtains. My eyes traveled with my slim palm, up and down the sheets, my nerves wracking against my body and causing me to shake noticeably. My legs were curled up to my chest, as I hugged myself into a little ball in the plush chair that I had drug over to Regina's bedside a million times before. I was close enough to where I could rest my elbow right on the palatial bedding, and fall asleep on the same pillow as her. But I just sat, and watched. I watched as her chest heaved up and down, giving me the sure sign that she was okay. And I watched the rare twitch of her hand, and foot. I sat there for hours, knowing she'd surely be asleep for a while, but I stayed anyway. I leaned against the edge of the mattress, and my eyes scanned over her serene countenance. I tucked a few loose hairs gently behind her ear, and couldn't withhold myself from eventually running my fingers through her dark locks. Even if she were awake, she wouldn't mind it. Whenever she was upset, or angry and couldn't do much about it - I'd try to calm her down in any way possible. Running my hands through her hair wasn't such a new thing for either of us. The first time I did it, I didn't really mean to. It just... happened, but neither of us objected. It was something calming to both of us, something that reminded us that we were always there for one another. That's what friends did, right?

Her dark silky hair glided through my fingers and fell gently onto her pillow below her head. She was passed out cold on medication, and a little bit of anesthesia that were still flowing through her veins. I made sure that she was kept asleep for as long as possible, so she didn't have to endure anymore pain than was necessary. She was doing so well for the longest time, that I was sure she'd be home in no time. But then, my shitty self couldn't keep a good eye on an infection. Maybe I was just being too harsh on myself, but I was so eager to get her home and back to her son that anything that went wrong - was automatically my fault. Who knew, maybe my brain was right and it _was_ all my fault.

My green eyes journeyed down to Regina's foot, that was now wrapped tightly and securely in medical gaws. The surgery went well, besides the occasional getting stuck in my thoughts and overthinking _everything._ I was surprised that I hadn't been fired yet, considering that ever since Regina showed up in this damned hospital, I've been off track completely. The gears in my mind didn't function properly anymore, unless I was by her side and helping her through her day. I liked being around her, and not because it made me look like I was still doing my job. Because, she understood me more than anyone I had ever met before. Her sarcasm, and attitude was perfectly balanced with how sweet she could actually be. She was brunette, I was blonde.. we were perfect opposites. What was that saying.. opposites attract? _Shit._

I veered my attention away from her foot, and looked back to her restful face. My fingertips tugged and messed with the loose spots on the bed sheet, before I finally sucked it up and said, 'screw it'. I released the unpigmented sheets, and outstretched my arm the slightest bit to place my cold palm on top of Regina's. I tucked my head down vaguely, a bashful grin dancing across my lips before I could work the courage back up to face her placid state.

"Uh-m.." I muttered, my voice lower than planned, "I know I'm kinda talking to myself right now.. but, I feel like I should be doing this.." I traced circles on the top of her hand with my thumb, trying to loosen my tense muscles and steady my nerves. My gaze traced along her cheekbones, and to her closed eyelids as if I was expecting them to open, "I-...I know that you kept this a secret from me for a few days.. the infection, I mean. Because there is no way in hell that an infection like that can happen in just a few hours, Gina. But, hey - it's okay, I know you're stubborn.. I just wish we could've gotten it taken care of sooner." During the surgery, the nurses and I talked. Earlier, when she was still conscious and I was still trying to collect my thoughts, I didn't happen to realize how bad the infection actually was. It was something that couldn't just appear overnight; it took time to sprout like that, around a few nights or more. I was angry that she didn't tell me, but I was even more furious at myself. The fact that I checked it day after day, and didn't see that it was slowly getting worse made my heart drop and my stomach twist into a knot of regret and shame. Some doctor I was, huh? "Anyway," I exhaled softly, "before I got the call, I was just... driving. For some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to go home. I mean, I wouldn't of slept anyway," I chuckled faintly, glancing nervously between our hands and her glowing skin for a split second before continuing, "see, on this certain road, many years ago.. there was a baby. She was left.. alone, just abandoned on this shitty gravel road," I shook my head, forcing a soft smile to lighten whatever mood I was creating, "god knows how she survived.. but she grew up. She became this broken little girl, who hopped from home to home, not knowing _why_ she was given up. She was so _unloved_ and _unhappy_.. but she kept going." There were the tears, that I was so patiently waiting for. They gathered in the corners of my eyes, and continued to appear until they threatened to spill over onto my cheeks; but I continued the tale. "She kept going because she knew she was stronger than a couple hurtful words, and broken families where she didn't belong. That anger, and strength was all she had... so she didn't let it go," here came the voice cracks, and trembling lips, "for years, she grew up with this grudge and belief that nobody would ever love her, because she didn't belong. But for a moment.. for the smallest moment, she was happy. But that happiness faded away just as the one who gave it to her. He didn't leave her empty handed, though.." I paused, and let a tear escape past my crumbling walls. It slid down my cheek, and fell onto the sheets, like a raindrop, "..she had a child." I took in a deep inhale, my lungs expanding and my heart aching. Who's idea was this again? Right, _mine._ "This child was hers, but she decided to give it, it's best chance.. and that was without her. And no matter how hard it hurt, she knew it was for the best - because, how could an unlovable person raise a child? She couldn't. But she continued to grow, and learn.. and things began to take a turn towards the best." I wiped my cheeks with the back of my free hand, and gave hers a gentle squeeze of reassurance that I was still here. "She got a job.. and ended up being one of the most successful doctors in the hospital. It wasn't what she had planned, but... it was something," I tried my hardest to keep at _least_ a grin on my face, even if there was no conscious person to show it to. "She met wonderful people, with wonderful stories.. but she was just Emma. The lost girl, who still hadn't found herself after 28 _years._ " I shifted in my seat, scooting myself closer to the unconscious brunette, "And even after the countless friends she made, she never felt important.. loved.." I still didn't know why I wanted to do this; I was practically telling my life story to someone who wasn't even listening. But, hey - maybe there was a wandering nurse or doctor out in the hall that was interested. Who knew. "..but then you were pushed through those doors, and somehow you pushed your way into my life, too. You're the only one who understands, and listens.. to my ridiculous jokes and bizarre behavior.. I've never opened myself up so much to someone before. And, hell - I barely even know you, huh Gina?" I chuckled, smiling down at her unconscious condition, "And I bet, if anyone asked that lost girl to choose between a free meal that included hot cocoa with cinnamon, or you.. she'd choose you. I choose you, Regina." I went silent, the only other sound in the room was the soft ticking of the clock hanging on the wall. And if I listened closely enough - or shut my mouth for once, I could hear Regina's steady breaths through the thin air.

For once, since I had started to belch my soppy story, I sat and listened. I also examined, and paid attention to every little detail I could find and see. Not the details like the narrow cracks that were beginning to sprout in the old walls like roots to a flower, or the way the clock was slightly tilted to the right, placing the twelve where the one was supposed to be. It was the details in Regina's skin, hair.. face. The way her hair flowed just past her shoulders, and rested gracefully on her collar bones; or the way her skin seemed to glow this luminescent gold even when she was out cold on two or three different medications. I began to see them, and appreciate them. I appreciated her, and how kind she was to me and the way her eyes lit up when I walked into the room - making me feel far more important than I ever was. And how every time we played a board game of sorts, she'd always beat me the first time, and let me win the second because she knew I was just as stubborn as she was. I wanted her to know how much I cared for her, and how much I valued her - but even more, I wanted to know if she felt the same. The thoughts that rushed through the columns in my brain were begging to be let out, and to be spoken. I wanted them to be free, too. But the harsh reality was something I wasn't ready to face - it wasn't the time or place, either.

But there's a first for everything, huh?

"You wanna know what I was thinking about in the car before I came here?" I sucked in a short breath, my dried tears stained my cheeks and new ones were gathering themselves back into my hazel eyes. I tucked another loose strand of hair behind her delicate ear, and leaned against the edge of the bedding carefully. _Emma Swan you were fucking crazy._

"I was thinking about how much I-" A high pitched noise cut me off, and made me jump in my seat. I glanced around without moving, trying to recollect my feelings and getting the gears in my head turning again. It continued for a few more seconds before I realized what it was. It was a telephone; the one that resided next to Regina's bedside in fact. I exhaled deeply, confusion and anger rising inside me. It wasn't even the fact that I was interrupted; it was more because of the shrilling noise that the ringing made. I also hadn't rested or taken a nap in almost twenty-four hours, so that might've been a reason, too. I turned my head, and had to lift my palm away from Regina's to be able to reach the phone from the table. I clasped my fingers around the telephone, and lifted it's cold surface to my ear.

"..Hello?" I spoke, my voice low and groggy.

"Mom?.." My body froze, and my blood went cold. _Who in the hell is calling me mom?_ The response, and the small voice that spoke back didn't seem to fit into the puzzle in the mind. Again, another reason I needed to just go home and take a nice long nap. My brow furrowed, and I stared blankly into thin air for a few awkwardly silent moments before my eyes wandered and met the surface of the tilted clock. It read, 6:43 p.m.

"..Henry," I murmured, not registering the fact that I was now speaking my thoughts instead of keeping them locked away in my brain, "I-I mean, Henry - n-no, this is Emma.. Emma Swan, your mothers doctor.. I believe we've spoken before..?" I stammered, curling back into the ball I was in earlier.

"More like, improperly introduced." His young tone replied, in an almost sarcastic manner. _For nine years old he sure liked large and complicated words, huh?_ Well, of course he did. He _was_ Regina's son after all. They might not have been related by blood, but hell - they should've been.

"Huh.. okay," I drew out, my mouth hanging open the slightest bit in confusion.

"So.. is my mom there?" He asked after a few seconds of silence. I heard the eagerness rising in his voice, but knew I couldn't wake her up as easily as anyone may of thought.

"Oh, she uh..," I scratched the back of my head, trying to think of some sort of excuse. I didn't want to go through the whole explanation of an infected foot and a coupe doses of anesthesia, "she's sleeping, actually." I tugged at my collar, hoping he'd accept it and go on with his night.

"Hm.. I'm going to ignore your awkward pause, like you were thinking, and choose to believe you." _Holy hell he had some sass in him._ I rose a brow, and didn't argue with his response.

"So..." I trailed off, waiting for him to speak up, say goodnight and hang up. But that didn't happen, instead he was there but silent on the other end. I glanced around the small hospital room, counting down the seconds until I would said goodnight myself.

"..Can you talk, then?" He took me by surprise.

"Uh- sure, I-I guess," I shook my head, sitting straight up in my seat. I wanted so badly for Regina to be awake, just so she could see the shock and delight spreading over my face. He wanted to talk to _me?_ His mothers doctor? Hm, I wasn't going to argue with that either.

"So.. are doctors supposed to stay there when their.. patients are sleeping?.." He asked; curiousness was something I expected - so you'd think I would've been more prepared for that question.

"Uh... sometimes, I just-" my eyes scanned her limp body, "I wanted to make sure that she was okay." I didn't know how else to explain it, considering I barely knew this little boy and I didn't want to crowd his brain with odd and complex explanations. But from my observation of his statements and utterance, he was a pretty sharp-witted kid. Like mother like son; that's the saying, right?

"So she's okay?" His voice rose rose many keys, as his daunting emotions began to peak through, and show themselves. My heart flourished with warmth; the love and bond between these two was something you could just feel. You could just see the extended sturdy bondage of chains that linked them together, no matter how far apart they really were from one another. It was beautiful. Something I hadn't felt or seen in such a prolonged period of time.

A grin unrolled across my lips, and I bowed my head in a nod knowing fully that he couldn't see me anyway, "She's... good, she's really good, Henry." An endearing and hushed exhale of relief arose from the other end. It made me jovial, knowing that I could make someone else's night with just a few words of hope and comfort.

He was utterly silent for the moments that followed. I took a guess, and assumed that he was attempting to hold down the bubbly and joyful giggles that arose inside of him. Children were funny, they became overly and emotionally excited whenever they got the chance. Emotions weren't too much a part of my own personal vocabulary - so it was interesting to see or hear someone else experience them so easily. It took storms, and hurricanes to get something to ascend and display itself out of me. But with Henry, even if I barely knew this kid, I could tell that he couldn't control what he felt and what he didn't. With Regina, she may of thought that she concealed her emotions well, but I could see right through her. She felt things, deeply. You could detect how they took her over, and rattled her bones like wind chimes. They coursed through her veins quicker than her own blood and washed over her mind like a tsunami. She held that feeling in her core, and let it manifest because she would rather die than show it to anyone else. But that was Regina; and she was much like me... and I was much like her.

"So here's the thing, Henry," I spoke again, not letting the awkward silence overtake the call, "your mother is getting better by the day.. I can assure you that. She's.. gonna be home in no time, kid." I smiled softly, and could practically feel the presence of a beam spread across his face.

"Really?" He spoke with a mix of excitement and weary cheeks.

"Mhm," I hummed smoothly, enjoying the fact that I just continued to give this kid better and better news as the seconds passed, "but.. you have to do something for me." I pulled the teasing card, that all kids either founds exciting and adventurous or took it as an impossible task that couldn't be completed without a superhero's help. Henry, on the other hand - was part of the excited group.

"Which is?" He asked, followed with shuffling on the other end. I imagined a small little boy, with a wide smile that held only a few holes where teeth were supposed to be. I know I know, he was nine. But some part of me hoped that this nine year old still appeared as if he was 6. I envisioned him holding a large telephone with a coil wire up to his ear; the phone covering a large portion of his face because he hadn't grown into such large telephones, yet. He was sitting in his mothers office chair, which was large enough to seat three of him - he had his legs curled underneath of his bottom, so he could barely rest his crossed arms on the desk in front of him. It was a picture of pure adorableness. But I knew he was much older than my vision, and could actually reach the top of the desk whilst sitting properly on his mothers chair.

I ran a cold hand through my golden locks, and cleared my throat, "When your mom gets home.. I want you to shower her with hugs and kisses until she can't handle it anymore.. but then, shower her with more," we shared a giggle, and I would never forget it. I felt the need to care for him, just as I cared for his mother. It was something I couldn't explain, but it was nice.. actually caring about something for once.

"I'll make sure to put that in my Scooby-Doo calendar," he cracked a joke, which was something that I wasn't expecting for some odd reason.

"You have a Scooby-Doo calendar?" I dissolved into laughter, the kid knew how to hit a funny bone. He reminded me of myself when I was younger, but he was far more free and expressing than I ever was.

"Let's not talk about it.." he groaned, and the snickers and cackles sustained. After we calmed ourselves down after a few instants, I heard him take a short inhale of breath as if he were to speak again, ".. can I tell you something? I mean, you probably won't care, but it's something I can't really tell my mom.. I want to get it off my chest so I'm not weighing it around all the time." The sudden turn in conversation surprised me, considering he didn't seem like a kid who would open up much unless he had to.

"Well.. sure, kid - anything," I faltered. I wasn't sure how well I was going to handle this situation; I wasn't the motherly figure like his own, I was just Emma. I didn't have prior experience with children, besides my foster homes and the bullies that lived within them. I was a mother for less than an hour, if you didn't count the nine months of carrying the poor thing. I was never taught how to deal with conditions like this. But who was I to give up on such an adventure.

He hesitated, but finally found the courage to warm up to me and speak, "I.. was supposed to be staying with some people, so they could keep an eye on me while my mom was gone. But.. I ended up going home, because I'd rather be home than somewhere I didn't want to be," he sighed, and I wondered if that was it. However, his tone exhibited that he wasn't even to the part that he was truly wanting to confess, "I'm home, and I'm safe - and I don't want her to worry. But, I have someone else watching over me now - and his name is August.. he's my friend, but I knew she'd freak if she found out that a random and strange guy just came into her house and started telling her son about a storybook."

"A storybook?" I asked, my brow shot up in question.

"It sounds crazy, and the way I'm putting it, isn't making much sense - but, yeah. A storybook." I was speechless; I expected a story about how he snuck to a friends house or that he had some sort of crush on a girl. Not something so complex about a random stranger showing up on your doorstep, and becoming buddy buddy with him.

"Uhm.. and I can't.. tell your mother about this?" I queried, hopping between to different sides of, doing the right thing, or staying true to to help out a kid that I wanted to suck up to.

"No, and I'm trusting you with this secret. So you gotta keep it, okay?" I felt so much pressure on my chest, like I was talking bad about Regina behind her back. It was crazy that I was being told something I had to keep from her, as she lied right in front of me peacefully.

"Uh.." I inhaled, my lungs expanding along with my anxiety.

"..Please.." he murmured, the desperation in his voice had my heart melting into complete weakness.

I tilted my head, and clenched my jaw. _Emma, you weak son of a bitch_. "Okay.. I promise." I mentally smacked myself on the forehead multiple times, knowing I should've said no way, and told Regina immediately, "But kid, if I get into trouble with this - I'm comin' for you first," I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

"Deal." His compact voice spoke, in that same damn tone that could make the toughest and most cold-hearted person collapse into his palms like a puppet, "And you might not want to tell my mom that I talked to you while she was sleeping.. she gets a little jealous sometimes," he joked, as he burst into a giggle fit. I joined, and shook my head.

"It'll be nothing I can't handle, kid," I sighed, leaning against the back of the chair relaxed. I was handling this situation better than I expected - and it was nice. Talking to him, was like talking to my inner child that I always wanted to express.

Hm. Maybe I wouldn't of been such a bad mother myself.

* * *

I placed the glossy telephone back onto its holder, with a swift movement of my hand. It was crazy to think that after weeks on end, talking to my mother - I never had gotten the chance to speak to Emma, once. Considering almost every single time I spoke to my mother, Emma seemed to be near - or in the room somewhere, lingering. They were together all the time, put aside the fact that Emma _was_ her doctor; it was kinda weird to think about. Now, if it was a male doctor, I'd be teasing her for days about her 'new boyfriend'. But maybe I could still tease her about her new best friend. She doesn't really have any friends, unless you count residents in a town that _have_ to be friendly because she's their mayor. So it was nice knowing that she had company, and wasn't stuck in a hospital all by herself. Emma seemed nice, too.

I took in a deep inhale, and gazed upon the room before me. It was my mother's office; covered in clique black and white, and oddly dim lighting. The hanging lamps, and geometrical flooring gave it an eery feeling as if it were something sacred. Nevertheless, I liked being in there. Especially when my mother was away; it was a place where I still felt connected with her, when I couldn't actually speak - or see her. Her plush rolly chair was the first thing I always ran to as a child when she let me come with her to work. It was fun, and comfy - but no matter how much noise and commotion I made, along with being such a distraction, she let me sit in it for as long as I wanted. She called it my throne, because of how much I sat in it. At one point she worried that I'd never get out of it, and would have to pry me from his black leather surface.

I missed it. I missed her; she had never been gone for so long on a business trip before. It was new, and abnormal waking up and not finding a fresh stack of pancakes on the counter just waiting for me, or my mom shaking me gently awake early in the morning so we could get breakfast at Granny's before school. I wanted her home.. and maybe I was over exaggerating a tad bit and being a needy child like I always was. But, any child or kid would miss their parent if they disappeared for longer than needed, and then soon find out that he or she had been involved in a car wreck. It was scary, very scary. Everything is normal, then a stranger knocks on my doorstep with news that would spin my world around like some sort of carnival ride. Then again, my life was never normal. I was surrounded by overly joyful people who seemed too perfect for a town like this - and an overachieving mother who always wanted the best for me no matter how little the situation. Come to find out, I was adopted.. which I took pretty well if I do say so myself. But if you asked anyone else, they'd tell a completely different story. Like how I became more distant, and moody. But, come to think of it - who wouldn't? I was also, only six years old. Not many things made sense to me then, so I learned over time and came to accept who I was and appreciate the mother I had.

My small palms gripped around the edge of the desk, pulling myself and the chair closer to its surface and in arms length of the apple bowl I was targeting. The plastic bowl held a pile high of blood red apples; my mom always had a fresh pick of them every week. But since she's been gone, and nobody has done the chore for her, most of the apples were bruised and becoming a little more rotten by the day. I peered at they're shiny surfaces, and searched for the freshest and most edible apple I could spot. After moments of desperate and ravenous seeking, I finally found a cleanly smooth and delectable looking apple. I outstretched my arm, and grasped my fingers around the fruit, picking it up - careful not to tip over the rest of the apples. I gazed at it, and turned it in my hand a few times to examine its surface and make sure there was no bruising present. My mother especially knew how picky I was with my apples. They had to be perfect, or else I'd shun them off like a king and a peasant. I had done that ever since I was old enough to eat them.

Once I had successfully fulfilled my examination, and was completely satisfied, I began to lift the apple to my mouth. But before I could even dig my teeth into the surface, or even pierce through the skin a booming voice bounced off the walls and echoed into my ears.

"Hm. Red apples? I'm guessing you're the queen's son.. Henry, is it?" the voice was low, and intimidating. My gaze was still fixed on the shiny skin of the apple, with my mouth gaped open to receive the bite that I didn't take. I took my time lowering the fruit from my mouth, and lifting my stare to the tan entrance that was now wide open with a shadow residing in front of it. It was tall.. towering over me from across the room even. But soon did I figure out the shadow wasn't just a dark spotted corner in the room.. it was a person. My dark eyes fixated on the surface of their pale skin, and the two blue orbs that pierced through the dim lighting like flashlights. You'd think that I'd recognize the person, given that I had read the book from front to back multiple times in one day since MM had handed it to me. His hair stuck to his forehead, and curled at some ends around the foreign object on his head. Something moved, and I guessed it was his arm as it reached up to the entity above his head. He palm retracted and grasped onto the rim that stuck out and lifted it from his skull; it was a hat. It reduced his size it height drastically, and he no longer looked like a colossal giant that escaped a bean stalk.

"You don't remember my part of the story, kid?" He spoke again, and I watched skittishly as he began to take long and slow steps towards me and out of the shadows near the door. He took a step into the section of room that was being illuminated by the strung up lights above, directly in front of me. The lights let of a luster of glow and revealed his chiseled jawline, and hard features that gave him an menacing appearance. His left palm was clasped tightly around the rim of the oddly large top hat, that hid his full head of light brown hair. My anxious emotions vanished as I realized that I knew him from somewhere, he was... familiar. Those perturbed feelings were replaced with the sarcasm my mother gave me, and the pure 'joy' that _another_ random stranger decided to show up not on my doorstep, but at my mother's office that was usually very difficult to get into. Wasn't that front door supposed to be locked?

"Oh great," I sighed, setting the apple onto the surface of the desk, "you're a fairy tale character, too.. aren't you?" It wasn't really a question on my part, it was more like a statement that I needed to be confirmed.

The man shot a grin at me, and lifted his head the slightest, "Smart kid."

"Which one are you?" I asked, this time it really _was_ a query. Thinking back on it now, I should have known exactly who he was. If the ridiculously tall top hat, and crazy nature didn't give me a hint, nothing would. I blame it on the sudden shock, and being the fact that I was more focused on the situation of my mother and the funny woman named Emma than I was over _another_ newcomer.

He seemed taken aback, and hurt that I didn't know who the man was. I couldn't blame him, I probably would've reacted the same way. "Little bit forward don't you think? But.. if you insist," his tone was very proper, yet sarcastic, "I.. am the mad hatter. Nevertheless, you can call me Jefferson," he bowed like he was in some sort of performance on stage. I furrowed my brow at his actions, he was very old-school and dressed like he was in some sort of 1960 soap opera.

"How do you know who I am?" I lowered my head, like I was nervous - but I was far from it. I had become used to people assuming who I was and what I was about. Because every time since my mother left, people knew me. Like recognized me, and gave me their full attention unlike before. It was like they were scared of her, and what she would do if they were caught speaking to me.

"I know a lot about you, Henry." He said it with truth, there was no glancing to the left or right, no stuttering or murmurs. He was like August, straight froward and full of knowledge that I had no clue how they obtained.

"It seems like a lot of people do.." I trailed off, letting the awkward silent begin to building a wall around us in the spacey office.

He cleared his throat after a while, and folded his hands behind his back, "So I heard you needed help making this town believe," my head shot up at his statement, "how would you like mine?" A devilish smirk revealed itself upon his lips, and I glared at him in shock.

"How do you know that?" I asked, squinting my eyes as if that would make me more intimidating than he, and getting my answers faster.

He completely ignored my question, and took a few more small trudges closer to the opposite side of the desk, "Because if you'd like my help.. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve." I saw his inner self chuckling with amusement at his own jokes. Ha-Ha, the mad hatter was really mad. I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes into the back of my head; why is it always the sarcastic jokers who show up knocking on my door?

"So how are you gonna help me?" I rose a brow, completely over his 'funny' act and groggy tone. How was I going to explain _two_ random strangers to my mother? Let alone, one?

He took the last steps to close in the distance between the desk and himself. He leaned over, resting his folded arms on the surface and slightly tilting his head to the right, "A little bit of tricks.. maybe a pinch of.. magic," he seemed so sure of himself when he spoke.

"Magic?" I sighed, thinking that this man was completely unhinged from whatever frame he broke free from.

"What, you don't believe?" He asked, but it seemed like he was awaiting the chance to say it - like it was a million dollar question on a TV show. This time I ignored his question, and let him ramble on with whatever argument he thought he was winning, "C'mon, you're supposed to be the truest believer, Henry. Where are you?" I knit my brow together, immediately perplexed from his proclamation.

"What are you talking about?" I shook my head, scanning his bright blue eyes that stared deeply into mine.

"I imagined that it'd take a bit longer than expected.." he exhaled, and stood straight up like he was in the midst of being disappointed by my exclamation.

"Okay," I blinked a thousand times, trying to think of where I went wrong in the conversation, "I'm going to act like that wasn't an insult, and politely ask you, what?" I looked up at him, with a mix of displeasure and uncertainty.

"Even the truest believer isn't such a believer in the beginning, Henry." He tapped the top hat against his leg as if he were thinking, but quickly stopped and turned his attention back to me, "So. Do you want my help, or not?" The sass in his voice revealed to me that he was going to help me whether I liked it or not. And whether August liked it or not as well. _August._ How was I going to explain to him, that a darker, scarier, and more complex version of himself showed up for a visit?

Who knew a nine year old could get so dulled with fairy tales.


	9. Chapter 9

**( Just to let you all know, I was a very emotional person writing this, considering I started this next chapter as soon as I finished reading The Art of Being Extraordinary, WHICH IS A WONDERFUL FANFIC YOU NEED TO READ IT BUT ITS SO HEARTBREAKING JUST TO WARN YOUR POOR HEARTS. So if this chapter seems rushed, or anything different I blame my tears. Also! School is starting in just a few days for me, so chapters may not be as frequent! But I promise, I WILL update! ENJOY! )**

* * *

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"Just a part of the plan."

"What plan?" My curiosity sprung from the depths of my mind, and sprouted to the words I spoke. I couldn't really place my finger on why I always trusted such random strangers all the time - I blamed my youth and my innocent mind. Others would say I was just a kid looking for someone to talk to, someone to keep me company in such a time like this. Maybe they were right.

I had gotten no response to the lean and top hat wearing man. He sat in silence, his blue eyes darting around the elementary school playground like a hawk on a hunt. I had never met someone so odd, yet collected. His hands were folded in his lap, and all of his attention was drawn to the piled brick building that held hundreds of kids at a time; but right now, half of those children were spending their evening outside on the recreation ground.

"..How's August?" My brow ascended halfway up my forehead, at the sudden question. How many surprises did one guy, have? Too many, I'll tell you. I had just met him last night, and the first thing I see in the morning is a flickering bulb above my head, and the reason for that bulb - take a guess. A nosy dark haired man, with a trigger happy finger that found my light switch. God knows how he got into the house, but it was no surprise. August had gotten in almost, _too_ easily; and even after over a month, I still never watched him walk through the front door. 'You ready, kid?' Jefferson said, my dozing ears barely accumulated the words that he spoke. I sat up, and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, they still couldn't reach the floor. I must of been sleep walking, because I still couldn't recall why I had followed him here in the first place.

"..You know August?" I questioned, even if it was an obvious answer, I still wanted conformation. He snapped his neck to look down on my small figure.

"Of course, he's the one who escaped the _Queen's_ curse," he emphasized 'queen', obviously making it sound more dramatic, like he did with _everything_ , "oh - and Emma, too." He shrugged, and his gaze wandered once more - like the subject and the mention of the woman, was just something normalized and unpremeditated.

"You know Emma, too?" I sighed, my head dropping a mere inch in exaggeration, and shot him a look that said, 'you've got to be kidding me.' Everyone knew her, and I was the ugly duckling in the bunch that hid in the shadows clueless to what was around him. The first time I had ever spoken to the blonde, was last night. At first glance - or, shall I say, first.. hear? She didn't sound anything like a professional doctor that you'd go and see for a surgery or something that needed immediate medical attention, like on the shows. Yeah, yeah - go ahead and yell at me for comparing real life to TV show expectations, but that's what I was thinking. She was calm, and collected - but liked to have her fun. She was kinda like me, in a sort; her goofiness, and childlike giggles made my heart more settled and tranquil about the situation on the other end. I already knew some of her story. She was the almost perfect and porcelain like child, of Snow White and Prince Charming. But as a curse was casted by.. the Evil Queen, her parents sent her through a portal to the real world. She was important, and was demanded to be kept alive and safe - but I never knew for what. August would never tell me. All I knew was that I had to be the diversion, the one to occupy everyone's minds with a book full of fairy tales - and try to spark their inner belief with just a few words to save a town.

"Stories spread quicker than you'd think back where I'm from, Henry." He exhaled, letting out a prolonged breath that he seemed to be storing for a while. His jittery palms, and the constant lip tugging with his teeth gave a sure sign that he was nervous about something. And I had no idea what that 'something' was. It couldn't have been me, he was far too cocky in his first impression to be anxious around me; in fact, nobody was ever really nervous around me. He must of felt my preying eyes on him, or maybe his vision was better than I thought it was - because he immediately balled his fists to stop the shaking, and changed the subject completely. "So, tell me kid.. what's it like being raised by the _Evil Queen_ herself?" Maybe he just asked it to push my buttons, and get some sort of exciting reaction out of me to enliven the dull air between us. Whatever his deranged reasoning, it pulled at my strings and triggered some sort of anger within me. Our eyes met at the same time, my gaping glare giving him at least some form of a hint that I was outraged with his comment.

I hadn't really come to terms with my mother, and her former identity. I didn't see her as some big bad Evil Queen that tortured and killed innocent people, even if sometimes her anger overtook her a little _too_ much - I chose to see the good. Because how could a child who almost had no chance at life, hate the one person who returned that chance? I was completely incapable to see past those layers and smiles she wore, and actually catch a glimpse of some bedazzled monarch who was entirely malicious.

Jefferson rose his palms in the air, "Sorry.. just a bit curious myself." As quickly as his eyes glanced to mine, they darted and locked wholly onto the play set once more. I had no clue what he was truly staring at, because there was no way his boggled mind would be so attached to some plastic slide and chained swing. I tried to follow his gaze, and pinpoint exactly where his pupils landed - but it was harder than it sounded in my head. The children began to group up, heading back into the large building to learn some more shapes and maybe if they were lucky - the color wheel. But his gaze stayed, and it lingered there for even longer.

The only child left, was a girl with long golden hair. She trotted over to a lone flower that sprung high from the ground, as it had obviously caught her attention. She bent over, wrapping her frail palm around the long stem - prying it from it's roots, and lifting its petals below her nose. She made it mid-inhale, before another child shouted, 'Paige!' Her neck snapped to glance back at her friend, blonde hair flying over her shoulder - and the blossom still gripped tightly in her fist.

Wait, _I knew her._ She was Paige, the shy girl who always did the best in the class and outdid every assignment she was given. Her creativity was something teachers loved about her, and everyone was jealous of her potential. And when I say everyone, I mean - _everyone._

"Can I tell you a secret, Henry?" His resonant tone struck like a bell, and wrenched me from my internal narration.

My brow inched itself together, "..Sure.." I hauled the word out for longer than I should have, unsure as if I wanted to learn his mysterious secret or not. Nevertheless, whatever it was - it was going to be either interesting, or could chase off a whole schoolyard of children.

He didn't answer straight away, as if he wasn't too exhilarated about spilling his surreptitious secrets, either. So I sat, and waited patiently for words to flow from his lips.

"Did you know.." he trailed off, tapping his thigh with his index finger. He paused, like he was trying to think of whatever he was supposed to be telling me. I rose my brow, and glanced around in the awkward silence that overtook the conversation in less than a second.

"Tell me wh-"

"That this town is full of magic."

Well, I didn't see that one coming... _surprisingly._ After spending weeks on end with August, the man who spoke his mind on whatever, whenever - you'd think I'd know everything in the book. And not the book with fairy tale characters and happy endings; the one where I would have every unexpected sentence that flowed out of someones mouth written in perfect cursive, and have their own chapter on when and where to expect them.

My brow rose faster than a high speed chase, "Magic?" I gave him the same look as earlier, questioning where his sanity had gone, if he even had any in the the first place. Funny how I believed that a whole town was made up of fairy tale characters, but I couldn't even believe this. Magic... it was too good to be true. It was something in almost every fantasy novel; hint the word... _fantasy._ Who knew, apparently I was the 'truest believer' to Jefferson. Whatever that was.

He nodded, giving me an occasional glance, "..What? You don't believe?" His tone rose, as if he was offended by my silence and awe. "C'mon, don't tell me that a kid like you, doesn't think even the _slightest_ bit that magic can exist." His eyes peered down at me, and I glared up at him. I wasn't going to answer, because no matter what I said he would've continued talking and going his own way with the conversation anyway. But this time, it was hush. No words, no giggles, just silence that began to sweep between us.

I couldn't stand silence.

"What does magic have to do with making people believe in fairy tales?" My sarcasm was peaking through my curtain of innocence. I chose to ignore his statement before, and take my own turn on the conversation. But of course, no matter how hard I tried to catch him off guard with my own proclamations - he was always ready to fire something back.

"You wanted to make people believe, didn't yah?" He shifted in his seat, the old bench creaking under both of our weight. He had his arms gently wrapped around his torso, as if he was hugging himself and keeping away all harm; surprisingly he didn't have his overly exaggerated hat in his palms. Instead, he had set it at his side - resting it softly in the patch of grass that surrounded under and around the wooden bench. His hat was like my book, it was always by his side - just in case. He leaned towards me, like he was about to whisper a forbidden secret in my ear - but instead, he spoke loud enough for someone to hear his 'secret' from twenty feet away.

"Magic is believing, Henry."

* * *

Snacks were some form of weakness for me; considering I had dragged a recovering and fatigued Regina a floor down, just so I could get my grimy hands on a vending machine. I wouldn't have brought her on any other occasion, but I really wanted to tell her about Henry and I's exchange on the phone last night. Yeah, yeah - I could've waited and got the snacks on my own, but my patience was non-existent. Hell, I was Emma Swan - and Emma Swan needed her snacks, no matter what the time. And just so happens, this specific time landed right when I did my occasional check up on Regina. And when I say 'occasional' I mean, daily.. hourly. Whatever or however you wanted to put it - it was around then. When I exclaimed the little adventure I wanted to take, she sort of just sat there and gave me an 'are you serious' look. But I think she secretly enjoyed the fact that she was up and on her feet again _and_ so quickly for her situation.

It had only been a matter of hours after the surgery, well - not even a full day had passed. But her foot was already looking healthier and better by the second. Either it already felt well, or she was hiding the fact that she was experiencing literal hell behind her glistening eyes that told me otherwise. I should've expected that anyway, I mean - she was _Regina._ The woman who held her head high no matter what the situation, and kept her foot on the ground through storms and tornadoes. She was practically this super human who appeared in comic books, becoming this drawing of colors and shapes that so many kids idolized. And her weakness was emotion, and letting people see through her walls that she built so high to hide them. I guess that made _me_ the super villain, because to this day I've been the only person in the entire hospital that those walls came down to. Wait, does that make me good or bad?

I had gotten too deep and submerged into my thoughts, that I shrugged in reply to my own question. I immediately realized the mistake I had made as I heard a muffled chuckle and Regina's soothing voice surface itself and echo down the empty hall.

"What are you shrugging at, Swan?" I froze, and my cheeks went hot - as I realized I had been dwelling on my thoughts and gotten caught... _again._ A superpower Regina had to go with her super human abilities, was seeing through other people as well. Funny, considering that _was_ her weakness after all. Sometimes the special things we can do, can kill us furthermore - can't they?

I glared at the thick glass that separated me and the delectable goodies in the machine. Regina and I's appearance reflecting in the glassware - both completely opposite attire and aspects. Regina was wearing a loose fitting pair of sweatpants, and a t shirt that had the words 'happy camper' alluringly designed on the front of the grey shirt. I knew the whole reasoning behind the top, and the only reason why I do is because I had asked early on. She didn't come off as some kind of camping machine, that enjoyed to sleep in a melting hot tent and be surrounded by pesky bugs all day. And I was right. She only owned the shirt because, when Henry was a bit younger, he was a boy scout. Now that's an adorable image; my mind conjured up another picture, one with a small boy with dark brown hair like his mothers that stuck out at all places from underneath a tight fitting hat. His dark locks curling up and being tussled around after removing the hat. There was badges galore, and a wide smile as he trekked through the woods like a mountain climber. I had never even met the child, but I was already daydreaming on what he looked like, and how he acted. And in my mind, he acted a lot like Regina - which wasn't a bad thing at all. Anyway, when little Henry was a boy scout, his troop decided to take a camping trip and explore the outdoors for the first time together. But since there was only one Scout Leader, and almost a dozen little and hyperactive children - chaperones were needed. Regina was basically volunteered by the group of parents that didn't want to join their wailing children in balmy tents. She was exhausted, irritated and needed to get work done - but she did it for Henry. And after days of dealing with sweaty and fidgety children, her trophy was a complimentary t-shirt that she wore every once in a while to bed.

That was the shirt. The remembrance token I knew she held dearly, and looked quite comfortable if I do say so myself. She needed all the comfort she could get, taking into account that she was forced onto crutches to keep all the weight possible off of her foot - and at the same time, push around a metal wheeled pole that held her IV. But I did that part for her, and had her lean against the opposite wall from the vending machine. I was already in trouble for getting her ass out of that bed, and even daring her to walk already - so I wanted to lessen my punishment by giving her at least _some_ rest on our adventure. A wall wasn't much, but it was something. And by the resting features and relaxed muscles in her arms - I could tell that it worked like a charm for the time being.

I, on the other hand, wore my scrubs. Today I was on the job, and doing what I did best: save people's lives. But ever since Regina was reeled through those doors, nothing exciting ever happened anymore. No more horrid accidents that needed quick attention, or emergencies that I needed to schedule appropriately to help as many people as possible. We were lucky now a days, to get a kid with a nose bleed. My uncomfortable and itchy scrubs were a subtle red, that I believe matched my personnel wholly. I'd like to think Regina thought so as well.

"Just.. thinking, that's all." I chuckled, shaking my head at my ridiculous mind that always tended to wander in the most extreme of moments. I continued to watch our reflections in the glass, waiting for the machine to finally piece together its instructions and give me my damn Cheetos.

Regina tilted her head slightly, her dark hair barely skimming her collar bones. I saw that thing she did with her eyes when she was curious, and squinted them just for a moment, "Thinking about..?" Her brow rose, and I knew that mean't that I wasn't getting out of this situation without her saying so. Classic Regina, I guess.

I took this moment, as the perfect time to bring up the kid. So I took the chance, and bashfully bowed my head and turned to face her relaxed frame, "So uh.." I mumbled, sticking my cold palms into my small pockets.

Regina practically rolled her eyes, and took my trailing off as a horrid sign, "What happened this time, Emma-"

"Nothing," I said, abruptly. I knew that I was a doctor, and doctors had to give some bad news some times - but this.. I didn't count this as bad news to me, or her.

"So what is it, then?" She sounded a bit agitated, which was expected. From anesthesia, to medications and barely any sleep - she must of been exhausted and straight up irritable.

I glanced to the polished floors, and traced circles with the tip of my shoe like a child receiving a lecture, "..Henry called last night." As those words passed by my lips, immediate permissive relaxation washed over her features like a tidal wave, and you could just feel her heart slowing to a gentle and warming beat. "And.. since you were obviously.. passed out," I sighed, recollecting the events from the night before, "he decided, that.. he wanted to talk to me." Those last few words stuttered out across my tongue, but soon reached the surface of free air.

I looked up to find an extremely calm Regina, with the same heartwarming expression and tranquil state as before. Maybe she didn't hear me, or maybe she was still thinking about her young son back at home - just the mention of his name dragging her into a world of memories and yearning. I must of glared too long, trying to uncover some form of emotion or response - because at some point in those few moments she escaped her daze and noticed my lingering emerald eyes.

"Are you expecting a reaction, Ms. Swan?" She rose her brow, and shifted a bit in her uncomfortable standing position. I almost instinctively rolled my eyes at my nickname she loved to use, but held it back - while also incidentally keeping more words to flow from my mouth. "C'mon Emma, just because I come off as some hard ass doesn't mean I always am one." A smile danced upon her lips - and like a disease, one spread upon mine as well. We shared a moment of giggles, before Regina dived straightforwardly into the topic, "So, how did he like you, doc?" She leaned forward, lifting her resting body from the wall and putting all of her weight back onto her crutches.

I tried to suppress a grin, but failed miserably, "I think he liked me.." I cowered like a child and a grin washed over my face. Was I blushing? _Dammit, Emma._

"You think..?" The corner of Regina's lip curled up into a smirk; she was obviously trying to tease me about the situation.

My sheepish gestures vanished, as I recollected myself and became the confident and witty woman I was. "Well, I mean.. we hit it off quiet nicely," I obtained my own taunting smirk, swaying on my feet at the artless conversation.

"Did you now?" Her smile had dragged me further into the discussion, like a magnetic pull I couldn't escape.

I nodded, and pulled my palm out of my cozy pocket - lifting a finger in the air, "And.. he also mentioned something about.. a Scooby-Doo poster?" Regina rolled her eyes, stifling a chuckle, "Now, how do you explain that?" I rose a brow, a humorous expression surging over my face.

She shook her head, and glanced to her lifted foot, "Yet, another horrid children's show I had to withstand when Henry was a baby." We shared another giggle fit, my shoulders heaving up and down in laughter.

"Ah, I see. Well, besides the awkward 'never spoke to you before' silences, I'd say it went pretty well," I flashed a smile.

"Is that so?"

"Are you jealous, yet?"

"Is that what this is?" If I hadn't of been scanning the room in skittishness, I would've almost swore she winked at me with those twinkling eyes. But I had no proof other than a sketchy gesture, and my own mind making assumptions.

"Henry told me I'd have to fight off some evil sorceress that was crazed with jealousy," there was a gentle clunk, and I glanced to find that the machine _finally_ dropped the cheesy snacks I paid for centuries ago, "look's like you proved him wrong," I chortled, snatching the plastic bag of Cheetos from the contraption, and turning back to Regina.

"It seems I did," she tilted her head, glimpsing at the delectable, "now that Miss Swan has her wholesome and obviously nutritious bag of Cheetos, may we take the adventure back up to my room?" She begged like a child, swaying on her crutches.

"Wimping out on me already, Gina?" I teased her playfully, and strolled over to her side, grasping my palm around her IV pole - ready to roll her majesty back to her rugged mattress.

"Forgive me, if my body feels like it's about to topple over in exhaustion, just because I was dragged down here so you could get your hands on a flimsy bag of compressed wheat, covered in cheese powder." She shrugged, and began to carry herself slowly around me. For only having the crutches less than a day, she was a pro. And when I say pro, I mean semi-intermediate. I chose to ignore her sarcastic remark, and enjoy the amusement it gave me instead. Her overly exaggerated and detailed sightings always seemed to hit my funny bone, and send me to the floor, curled up in pain from laughing so hard. After what seemed like hours of ridiculous laughter, I would always sit up and find Regina trying to sneakily wipe away the tears from her giggles, that she tried so desperately to hide and keep her serious mayor - like role. I rolled my eyes with a corny grin, and commenced into striding by Regina's side.

No matter what expression, or words that were spoke - I still think she secretly enjoyed the expedition for cheese covered wheat. Hell, who didn't love Cheetos?

* * *

"August!" My fist pounded the rickety door, the structure trembling on it's hinges.

There was no response.

"August, it's Henry!" I grumbled, knowing perfectly well that he wouldn't dare open the door to someone he was trying to avoid. It had been a full day since he last spoke to me, and hid away into his cave of an apartment. He wasn't himself, and it had something to do with Mr. Gold. It didn't surprise me, though. was the scariest and most intimidating man in the town, and had this resilient control over everyone. Sometimes, even my mother. I always had an uneasy feeling in my stomach when his presence passed mine, or his coal eyes met my own. He was odd, and just had _something_ about him. Then again, away from the fact that I knew he was Rumpelstiltskin - he still scared me.

There was the slightest shuffle, "..Not now, kid." I chose to ignore the fact that he continued to call me 'kid' like everyone else in this town, instead of snapping back at them, that I _did in fact_ have a name.

I rolled my eyes, impatiently stomping my foot on the ground like a toddler, "You can't hide from me forever, August." I retaliated, vexation beginning to grow inside of me like roots. I waited, my hot breath hitting the wooden door that was a mere two inches away from the tip of my nose. It was silent, no more moving, no more shuffling of clothing or the deep inhale of a breath. I lifted my balled fist, ready to pummel through the lumber surface.

"You're not the one I'm hiding from, Henry."

My fist stopped in mid air before I could make any contact, and screech out his name once more. Relief exerted from my lungs, and I felt my muscles relax for the first time in a day. But as quickly as I slackened, I became immediately perplexed by his statement.

"Then who are you hiding from?" My brow arched upwards, and halted for any feedback. My mind dawned on the assertion, and I knew straightaway what the silence meant for him. "Is it Gold?" My voice lowered from the sharp snaps, to a calming and comforting tone. I wanted to yell at him, and get my point across - but shouting through a door wouldn't do much to satisfy. So I resorted to a reassuring tone, hoping he would show his face and give me _some_ form of information that could help me relax from all of this drama. I was nine years old, and already dealing with adults problems, like a lawyer or something. Going from door to door to find a missing person, and basically setting up interviews with random strangers that knock on my front door. I might as well make my own business cards to hand out.

I shifted on my strained legs, debating whether or not to lean against the closed door and wait until he finally built up to courage to open it. But I kept that thought in my mind, and stood there in the awkward silence before I eventually began to hear the creaks of the floorboards from behind the wooden entrance. My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes darted at and around the timber frame waiting for the familiar face to appear.

The shiny metallic doorknob jiggled and twisted, soon pulling backwards to reveal a unshaven man who didn't take the time to put a shirt on. I held back the urge to shield my eyes, and kept them forcefully by my sides. His light blue eyes drooped down at me, obviously exhausted and paranoid. You see, since I was only nine - I was barely half of August's size, causing the problem of wandering eyes and curiousness. His unveiled torso was right in my line of sight, and he knew it, too. But what he didn't know, was how obviously pale and blinding his skin really was. _Lord, did I want to shield my poor innocent eyes._

"What're you, a vampire?" I rose a brow, my sarcasm beginning to shine through my pure surface like a beam. It wasn't mean't to be taken as a rude remark, and I knew that August wouldn't take much consideration into the comment - which was relieving. So I just spoke my mind, much like my mother does. Goodness, I was becoming more and more like her by the day. With a slick roll of his eyes, the utterance swept over his head like the wind and he continued with the - what I suppose was a conversation.

"What is it, kid?"

His groggy voice gave me the hint that all he'd been doing was sleeping, and had just woken up from a nap. At.. two in the afternoon? Is that was regular adults did? Sleep, and ignore children like it was their job? My mother wasn't normal, or a regular parent to say. She was always up on her toes, and making sure that I was taken care of before herself. She woke up before the sun did, and only slept in on weekends when she knew that I'd be doing the same. But hey, let August do August I guess.

I balled my fists, and tried to pinpoint what I had even come here for in the first place. After minutes of yelling, and trying my hardest to get the whiskered man out of his room - I had completely lost my young train of thought. It's wheels ran off the tracks, but I soon recovered them and got them rolling perfectly down the route.

"Does the name, Jefferson...ring a bell to you?"

His brow pulled together, and his lips parted softly. I didn't know if the expression that washed over his face was shock, or confusion. Maybe both? He broke our eye contact, and began to nervously scan the area around us in deep thought. I took this as a yes, even before he had answered me. After almost two months of constant oblivion to anything, and having more secrets than I'd like to admit, kept from me, I could see that look in anyone's eyes when they knew something. Hey, I might be young. But I'm not dumb. In fact, I like to think I got my smarts from my mother instead of that dilapidated school. All we learned about was numbers, and division - and even read stupid stories about dinosaurs that held secret meanings within the pages. You could tell MM didn't like teaching it, either. She was adventurous, and liked to break the rules a little bit - especially with those stories we had to read. She'd make up her own story, and create more words other than the ones on the pages, creating this amazing and complex tale that nobody expected.

The pause continued for longer than I expected, ushering an expression of perplexity to convey itself upon my face.

"Are we talking about.. a creepy and..." he finally looked back at me, and rose a palm to caress his stubbled chin, "oddly fashionable.. Jefferson?" Ding, ding. The man spoke, and his short yet very informative response matched the creepy man's appearance exactly. I gave myself a mental high five for that one - I called it. Well, other than Jefferson obviously implying that he _knew_ August, I still counted myself as a mind reader. Whatever, I still had an imagination.

I nodded my head slowly, a bit shocked over the fact that he could pinpoint that exact Jefferson so quickly, and swiftly. Eh, he was August - and he was smart. He remembered faces like a crow, and had one of the best memories I had ever seen.

He delayed in his response, conjuring up another question I suppose, "..Big top hat?" He lifted another palm, gesturing a large circle above his head. Another, _ding ding!_ Man, he was on the ball today. I responded with another nod; seems as if that was my iconic gesture.

As if he lost all strength in his muscles, the brawn in his face loosened and drooped. From the expression of shock, to one of disappointment and fear. That is the moment when he began to confuse me the most in this entire confrontation.

"...Shit."

The once open door swung and slammed just mere inches in front of my face. I jumped backwards in surprise, my eyes widening twice their size. I wasn't sure how to respond exactly - considering the conversation was going pretty well and I was _actually_ getting somewhere with August, I wasn't expecting a door to be shut between us. After a few moments of recollecting myself, and my jittery palms - I took another step closer to the door as I was before. I leaned in gently, about to press my ear to the wooden surface, and see what exactly the purpose for that action really was. But as quickly as it closed, it was open again. And this time, a _still_ unshaven man appeared. But, there was a slight change in scenery.

He finally put a shirt on.

There was a slight moment where I wanted to sigh with relief, but August was obviously in a rush and began to close the large wooden weapon on hinges behind him, "How many surprises does this damn town hold.." It wasn't put together like a question, he knew how many surprises. Even if his stay has only consisted of almost two months now - he probably knows more than what he wanted to. That statement was something mended together to express what he was feeling, and the way he spoke that proclamation revealed itself to me as something angry and irritated. Much like how he was before he opened that stupid door. So, if wasn't a surprise to me.

The stubbly faced man raced past me, and commenced his stomping rage down the creaky and aged wooden steps of Granny's Bed and Breakfast. And of course, since I had earned this label of his following minion, I did what I was supposed to do.

Follow.

* * *

Rough tiled surfaces don't mix well with shoulder blades and spinal chords. That's probably why you never see anyone leaning against them like some super villain waiting to plot their evil plan. And then there was me: the mysterious and odd suit bearing man who stood at random places at certain times. Or maybe, random times, too. I wasn't a villain who wanted to fulfill an evil plan, and take over a city with some magic powers. I was.. a hatter. Mad, to say. So yeah, it sounded like I was crazed with wicked blood, but I truly just wanted one thing from this town. And it was _far_ from evil.

I crossed my arms, straining my ears to listen and be on watch for pouncing footsteps down an unfortunately old staircase. People walked, and stared. Something I expected, so I just peered back at them until they became uncomfortable enough to continue along their way and drag their gazes back to the sidewalk. Was I _that_ scary?

My eyes followed and scanned the scenery around me, and the small building. Birds chirped, and butterflies flew - people laughed, and skipped down the cement walkways like joyous children who just got a new toy. It was hard to believe that this town was cursed, and filled with brainwashed princesses and princes who can't even remember their own families. They are were all just _too_ happy. The Evil Queen gave them such a horrid curse, eh?

Even as many times as I told myself that the life that all these people were torn to, wasn't bad - it really was. I may of not been dragged into this curse, and a part of it. But I still felt it, and I part of me was involved. A large part, really.

But who was I to become this soppy man, trudging around saddened over a curse that nobody even knew existed? I guess that was what Henry was for. To make them believe, and soon do that part for me. All I had to do was keep my doleful thoughts and feelings trapped beneath my skin, and locked away until I needed them. I was glad I could conceal things like that, but at the same time - I couldn't wait to let them out. Because when I let them out, it means it was the time. And the time, well.. I'd finally get what I wanted from this town. I'd wait years, but I was also very impatient. I should've spoken to that injured ' _Queen'_ when I had the chance. And ripped the answer to my problems right from her lungs.

But Emma got attached. And no matter how hard I tried to find Regina _finally_ alone and talk-able - Emma was there. Emma was _always_ there. I had no choice, but to leave and let the situation sort itself out. And trust me, if I'm here long enough to find Regina waltzing herself back across that retched town line - there will be talking. But if there is anything but luck by my side, she won't be the only one walking across the line. A familiar blonde with too little, and sometimes too much to say, would be right there by her side.

There was a subtle _thump, thump_. Repeating one after the other; the sound that I had been waiting for, for at least fifteen minutes now. It was the sound of relief, and to a child - the sound of an ice cream trucks theme song playing half way down their street. I inhaled a large breath, my lungs expanding in my chest followed by a deep exhale. As I came to my senses once more, I noticed that blood wasn't circulating in my feet anymore, for I could no longer feel my toes. I adjusted my stance, and leaned further onto the rough brick wall behind me. My backbone was crying out to stop, but I gave no attention to my aching bones - as my mind was set on the pairs of feet that would soon exit through the door beside me. I wanted to make a warming entrance, or.. appearance? Not too surprising, and intimidating - what do you think I am? Mad?

I left my hat beside my now awakening feet, leaving it resting carefully on the cement ground. I turned my head slightly, to face the twisting doorknob, mentally preparing myself for the confrontation. This couldn't be _that_ hard, it was a lot like seeing an old friend again. But this friend, may or may not hate your guts for just the mere action of showing up. I left my arms crossed unable to conjure up another gesture to situate them in.

The squeaky, rusted door swung open with little force. Unveiling a taller clique built man, along with a smaller boy right at his heels like a shadow. August and Henry, of course. The whiskered man seemed to be in a hurry, and to where? I think I had an idea. He turned, to start speed walking in my direction, but stopped abruptly. You could hear the skidding of Henry's sneakers as he wasn't well prepared for the sudden pause in their expedition. We must've only been a foot away from each others presence, the thick awkward air between us suffocating our lungs rapidly.

"..Great." August's voice lowered greatly, showing his 'obvious' excitement to seeing me here. I can't say that I shared the same disappointment, but I at least shared the smallest slice. It was probably the only thing we had in common other than the fairy-tale thing.

I chose to expel my sarcastic and snarky side this time, not wanting to get trampled over like a lost child looking for his mother, "I expected the kid to go run after you." I felt Henry's prying eyes on me, but I didn't dare to look. I kept my sharp gaze on August, and his clenched jaw.

"I see that." August must've thought about using the same tactic to come off stronger than he actually was. He wasn't one who usually got trampled over - even when he was a young child who was still made of planks and sticks. Everyone loved him, and his bubbly personality. Damn, he had the life. Besides the occasional reassurance that blood didn't flow in his veins.

I paused for a moment, and then outstretched my palm for him to calmly shake. A large part of me new he would harshly decline my gesture, and continue with his angry spoken words, but I tried anyway, "Well, long time no see old pal - how's life working out for yah?" I tilted my head, forcing a sly smirk upon my lips. August wasn't entertained the least bit, and glared at my hand like it was some sort of foreign object that could harm anyone that dared to lie a finger on it.

I gave up on being kind, and lowered my palm back down to my side, "It's been a bit busy - may I ask why you're here?" He was completely unimpressed, and downright blunt. It was expected, and no where near surprising at all. The comment could've been put in a million ways, and the good-natured way was the one I was expecting, but didn't receive.

I decided to be more on the snarky side, and begin to pull August's strings a bit. I wanted to befuddle his mind, and have him crawling and begging for more information. "Well.." I hesitated, glancing between the two figures staring me down. But I kept my glances mostly on the brunette headed child, Henry. When it came to the mention of his mother, you could see his mind flick a switch and the light in his eyes make an appearance, "when the mayor showed up on the hospitals doorstep, I decided to pay a visit." A corner of my lip curled up, knowingly tugging more at the child's strings, other than August's. It was kind of cruel, but what can I say? I was mad after all. "I heard some of the scoop from chatty-mouth Swan, but that's about it. What about you, wooden boy?" As usual, this was how our conversations usually went. Filled with subtle anger, and more sarcasm than a preppy school girl.

He crossed his arms, and shifted on his feet, "I'm here to save this town, actually. And I don't think I need anymore help, but thank's for the offer." He read me like an open book, and that was the horrid part about speaking to him. Or maybe the kid spilled a little bit too much on the trip up there. I wouldn't know, and didn't care too much about it because I had the advantage. And as we all know, the Mad Hatter never shows up without any tricks.

When it came to secrets, August was the one to usually have them and the one who would usually figure them out. But this one, I was determined to keep locked away in the deepest depths of my mind. It wasn't bad, like some sort of plot to murder the entire town. Actually, not even close. But when I held things dear to me, they stayed _close._ They stayed important, and they were spoken of as important and as deadly as murdering a whole town. Yeah, yeah - horrible comparison, but what else do I have. I hadn't even spoken of helping the town, other than to Henry. And by the short wait, I had come to the conclusion that Henry never even gotten around to the chance to speak about it. Hell, August probably heard a mere syllable of my name and went running like a gazelle trying to escape a full grown lion. I never really knew why he hated me so much, but damn, a lot of people did. He was probably handed a temporary member joining card by the large group that detests me, as if they collect members by the day because of the pretty decorations and phrases on the three by five inched index cards.

August put a gentle palm on the back of Henry's spine, ushering him to walk at his side. His gaze left mine, and trailed over my shoulder - and began to waltz away as if he didn't run out of that door, crazed to find my ass. I folded my hands behind my back, and glanced to the ceiling with a roll of my eyes. Before he could gain enough feet to pass my being, I took a small side step and cut off his pathway like sudden fallen debris.

"Whoa, whoa - wait a second," I rose my palms like a defensive mechanism and watched the annoyance in Augusts' expression grow dramatically, "how about... we all go get some coffee and have a little chat." I flashed a smile, and glimpsed between the two, my eyes landing and sticking onto Henry. "Hot chocolate for you, kid." I winked, and focused my attention back on August and his five o'clock shadow.

"I believe you and I have some catching up to do," I could just feel how badly he wanted to roll his eyes, but held it back wisely, "don't you think, August?"

* * *

It seemed that Emma wasn't such a maestro at board games as she thought she was. In view of the fact that I had beaten her every single time we played Monopoly. I suppose, to make herself feel better, and give herself a bit of leeway - she'd always blame it on the fact that I was a mayor, and I basically did this stuff for a living. I would shrug, letting her have her way, and let her confidence rise once more before she ended up landing on another spot I owned on the flimsy board.

"Dammit!" Her voice rose, as her fist lightly pounded the metal table. Another thing Emma had trouble with in games like these, was that her anger sometimes controlled her. I played along with it, other than trying to cool her down - because I really wasn't interested in babysitting a grown nurse. Then again, I could see behind her layers, and how that anger she showed wasn't truly anger. It was more of a lower level of irritation, that would disperse into thin air quite quickly. But no matter how 'angry' she seemed, I still played each night when she walked through that door with a dorky smile and her hands grasped tightly around another board game. At first glance, you'd see her as some hard ass that didn't let even a butterfly come near her presence. But after a few days of cheesy jokes, and soppy Disney movies, you flip a page and are exposed to this entire different being. A woman who doesn't like to brush her hair, and loves acting like a five year old on the daily. You'd think it would be exhausting, but the truth be told - when she was around, I seemed to consume more energy than I knew what to do with.

When I was rolled through those thick glass doors, nobody ever warned me of the effect she could have on one person. Back in Storybrooke, for twenty eight years - I had been this tough and stern person nobody would even lay eyes on. I have to admit - I was mean. I _am_ mean. I like to refrain from using such a word as 'evil', because it made me think more of a situation I had been in, well... twenty eight years ago. I also like to think that I've changed, in more than just one way. No more silky and tight corset fitting dresses, and no more anxiety taking me over just because I couldn't find a woman who's skin was white as snow. Hm, it sounded almost like a joke now. Far less real, and more like... a fairy tale. I've changed my clothing, my lifestyle and.. I'd admire myself much more if I had the courage to add, my entire being, to that list. But I couldn't just yet. I was still the Queen. The big bad, Evil Queen who still wanted to rip Snow White's heart from her chest and take away everything she ever had. It was sad, but.. that's how my life goes and that's how it'll stay. Locked away in my brain, and kept there to be hidden from anyone that it could hurt. Including, Henry. But Emma, when I finally saw her smile as something warming and joyful, instead of a pesky nurse trying to get too close - something clicked within me. I saw life as something enjoyable, and something I was so grateful for having. Because I would get to see her the next morning, and we would share a cup of coffee because we were both too cheap to buy two. Henry made me feel the exact same way, and even more. It was as if I was closer to Henry when Emma was around, and I used that as an excuse for liking her as a human being for the longest time before I gave up. I never liked anybody - actually, I hated everyone. It was weird being so close to someone, and enjoying their presence - especially since they weren't Henry. He was the only one I had ever laughed with, and let my sky high walls down to. But after a mere day with the blonde, she knew how to break me without even saying a word. Like I had knew her my entire life, and I was just now getting the chance to meet her. I told myself that she saved my life, and that was the only reason I was being _so_ weak. That I was still boggled up from the crash, and I just needed a few days to get my shit together and I'd be back to my irritated and pissed off self.

But I didn't change back to _me._ I stayed this weak, and giggle fitting woman who melted under a foolish blondes flashing smiles and over exaggerated gazes. I felt different, and I couldn't change it no matter how many times I engulfed my mind back to memories I never even dreamed of digging up again. I was sensitive, and radiated this odd aura that apparently was a magnetic pull to all the good thoughts. I also tried to convince myself that Emma was some sort of witch doctor, and cursed me to a life of complete happiness that I couldn't control. It didn't sound like much of a curse, but hell - look at Storybrooke. It doesn't look or sound like one, either.

Case and point: Emma made me this weak ass woman, who couldn't even stand on her own two feet anymore. But at least I still had a hard grip on my stubbornness. It was practically the only form of sarcasm that I had left, so I cherished it and used it whenever possible. In fact, Emma wanted to be the horse piece, but I whipped out my skills and became a stubborn two year old everyone hates. I mean, _it worked._ Because now I strided down the squared road as a gallant horse that constantly destroyed the shoe piece that Emma was stuck with.

Emma leaned carefully over the table to examine the board, "Seriously? I can't believe you guilt tripped me into letting you buy Boardwalk again." She groaned, throwing her head back in exaggeration. Oh yeah, I used those special skills of mine to get that pretty square called Boardwalk, too. After she accidentally spilled that it was the best place to get in the game, I headed straight for it. She now never tells me anything about the board games she brings in. She was just as stubborn as I was.

She released another groan, and exhaled over dramatically like she usually did to get her point across, "Easy tiger, you only owe me..." it was my turn to lean over the board, and scan the pretty square, "... six-hundred and fifty dollars." I looked up to meet her eyes that glared at me in irritation. I dragged on the amount of money for far too long, trying to get as much as a reaction as I could from her - and it worked. An eye roll was given, and she glared down at the little paper money she had left in her stash.

As she collected a variety of greens, pinks, whites and so on, I lifted my palm and set it out for her to set the overly cartooned money in, "How is it that you're the patient, and I'm the one paying you?" There she was. The sarcastic, and childish Emma that was peaking out to play. Just like I said, her anger vanished in mere seconds. I felt the light weight of the small slits of paper resting in my palm, and examined the scene before me. Emma had only a few dollars left, and I would win. I sat the pile of money in my hand next to the rest, and let my eyes travel to Emma's emerald green ones. She had a soft smirk, and her arms tightly folded across her chest. Her red scrubs were wrinkled from sitting cross legged so long, and were this dark red that framed and complimented her body perfectly... _shit was I staring?_

She shifted in her seat, and I watched as her fragile palm wrapped around what money she had left and made a terrible attempt of tossing it towards me. Causing the wind swept paper to sprawl and fly everywhere. "Shut up!" She stifled a chuckle, residing back to her folded arms and comfy position on her idolized plush chair she claimed since day one.

I rose my brow, my eyes widening as a wide smile took me over, "I didn't say anything!" I chuckled, and glanced around at all the dispersed money with a sigh.

"Yeah, but you were staring!" Emma shot back, gesturing to her fallen paper with a flailing arm and gaping eyes. Her responses always gave me a kick, and sent a bursting fit of laughter to my lungs. She was a complete five year old, who decided to become stuck in a twenty - something year old's body. Or maybe she just never grew up, who knew.

I shook my head and snickered, "I wasn't staring at your poor surplus, dear."

"Then what were you staring at?" This time she rose her brow, and lifted her chin as if she had caught me in some sort of act. In fact, I was actually terrified that she did. Her blonde hair fell behind her shoulders, as her chin lifted higher and higher as she was trying to make her overly ridiculous point.

I swallowed, and felt my cheeks get hotter by the second. But I recovered quite nicely, if I do say so myself, "At that terrible choice of color for your apparel," I nodded my head to gesture to her scrubs. I was a mayor, and I was used to being caught in difficult situations that I'd have to dig myself out quickly and swiftly from. So this should've been nothing, but it.. was something. I paused for way to long, and had let my face become too obvious that I was thinking. But she must've took that as a good enough answer.

"What? Seriously?" She sprawled her arms out, in confusion and shock, "I thought you liked red?" Her brow furrowed, and she seemed genuinely hurt before a grin overpowered her pretend wall of anger.

"I do," I inhaled, and scanned over the wrinkles and creases once more before meeting her gaze, "..but not that shade." I had to physically hold my breath to keep myself from erupting into laughter. I was usually one to keep serious, and stern - but like I said. Something clicked, and I can't turn back. I hated it. But how could I hate it completely when I couldn't even hate functionally anymore?

"But not that shade," she mocked me in a child's voice, whilst making the most ridiculous face I had ever seen. She swiftly grasped her palm around a small throw pillow and tossed at me. I couldn't hold back the giggles, so I let them loose and so did she. I caught the pillow with ease, and hugged in tightly to my torso. I stopped laughing for the slightest moment, just to respond to her ridiculous imitation.

"You're a child."

It did nothing but make her laugh harder, and lean over in titters. I rolled my eyes sarcastically, and watched her calm down from her immature fit she was having. But no matter what she did, the smile was still spread clearly across my lips. She leaned up, back into her sitting position - her arms still cradling her stomach. I shook my head, and lifted my elbows to rest them on the arm's of my chair, but I seemed to be too focused on Emma wiping her tears away to realize I still had my crutches leaning against the side of the chair - accidentally knocking both of them off balance and sending them thumping to the polished floor.

Emma went from carefully drying her tears with the side of her index finger, to scanning the very minor incident that occurred. I turned my body the slightest degree, and began to reach my arm over the side of the chair - trying to lift myself up far enough to grasp my fist around the metal objects.

"Here, here - I've got em'," Emma jumped from her seat, and scurried over to my side like a puppy racing to it's dog bowl.

"Emma, I'm perfectly capable to pick them up-"

"No, I've got them," she said reassuringly, as she bent over to grasp the crutches and set them gently back to where they were a few moments ago, "we don't need anymore injuries, madam mayor." She shook her head, finally able to balance the thin poles of metal whilst giving me the sternest look a mother could give her child. But considering the name calling she used, she wasn't being completely serious.

I rose my brow, and lifted my chin to gaze up at her accordingly, "So you're telling me, you'll drag me a floor down to get a bag of junk - but won't let me lean over the side of a chair to grab a pair of crutches?" There was a hint of sarcasm that manifested itself in my tone. Emma paused, and her line of sight began to glimpse around the room for an explanation or reason to her madness and crazed obsession with Cheetos. She knew she was stuck, so she had no other response than to tell me to shush.

"Be quiet, and let me be your doctor for five minutes."

We shared unavoidable grins, and chuckles. The grim air between us vanished without even staying for more than a minute, or long enough to even become grim air in the first place.

I lifted my right leg, and tucked it under my resting left one. My healing foot was propped up to the slight left, on the only armless plush chair in the entire room. Emma made sure that it was as comfortable and relaxing as possible. I believed she was just trying to suck up to me for dragging my fatigued ass down to a vending machine, but she objected otherwise. I wasn't the least bit angry for that unplanned expedition, even if the blonde thought I was. I was more angry at the fact that the choice of snacks she landed on, was Cheetos. A more delectable, and wholesome snack would have been much better - and I would of gladly stood against that rusted wall for a little longer. But what else did I expect? I just met the woman two months ago, and I already knew how bad her sweet tooth was. It was also a bit ironic, considering she was a doctor and knew the bad affects could be to consume one too many snacks and sweets. But what the hell did I know? I was a Mayor, for goodness sake. But, I was also a mother, so I believe that gave me some bonus points to the topic.

"How about, three and a half?" I smirked, and watched another eye roll erupt from the Swan. She added her remarkable shake of the head, and lifted her right leg to take a heedful seat on my armrest. She folded her hands in her lap, and twiddled with her thumbs like a child awaiting to receive a lecture, resting into the plush cushion she obtained. I furrowed my brow, befuddled at the sudden change in posture, and attitude in the woman. "Was your chair not satisfying you enough? Or are you just having withdraws? Trust me, I _know_ \- I'm irresistible at times."

I was obviously teasing the poor blonde, but she didn't seem to react the way I wanted her to; with a bright smile, and hurdling over in giggles - instead, the one reaction shot I got was the corner of her lip curling into a subtle grin. I tilted my head, trying to get a better perspective on her expression, but her head hung sort of low. If I was correct, I believed that she was deep in some form of thought - but I couldn't be completely sure. I paused, trying to give her some leeway and time to respond in any sort of way - such as the use of words. But nothing came, and her fingers continued to fiddle.

"Emma?" The fret in my tone rose dramatically, and my brow did the same.

"Can I be your doctor for a minute?"

"Okay, now you're scaring me."

"Regina."

She tilted her head to the side, giving me a side glare as to say, 'I'm serious.' When Emma unveiled the scary doctor that hid under her skin, nothing was ever good. It was always something to do with surgery, and upsetting information I would've been better off without knowing. But, I guess that's what doctors were for. Two things, saving people's lives and giving bad news like a judge telling someone their sentence. I felt my skin go ice cold, and my lips part - but I refused to let my mouth gape open.

"...You have a minute."

She fluctuated, and jumbled for the words she must've been mentally preparing for the past few minutes. Her minute was ticking downwards speedily, as I counted down the seconds in my head.

 _sixty...fifty-nine...fifty-eight...fifty-seven...fifty-six..._

"I've been a wimp.." My brow knit together.

 _fifty-four...fifty-three..._

"I really.. big one, actually."

 _fifty-one...fifty..._

"And I know, I should've told you sooner I just - ...it was never the right time," She scoffed, and shook her head. Her wild blonde hair falling over her shoulders, "and I don't know _why_ I thought this was an even better time - but.."

 _forty-three...forty two...just spit it out, dammit...forty one..._

I didn't have a clue to where this turn in conversation, or confession was going. I was travelling down a dark tunnel with no way out, so I just had to sit - and listen to the distinct mumbling and uttering.

"There was... a boy," she looked up to the ceiling, and either I was crazy - or there were tears gathering that she was trying to hold back, "..in - the crash." She inhaled the largest breath possible, her chest heaving outwards.

 _Shit._ There was the hint - the hint that I desperately needed. How more obvious could this get.

"He's dead isn't he?" I swallowed, my gaze falling to my own fiddling thumbs now. I expected to feel Emma's prying eyes on me, but they were no where to be found.

 _thirty-one...thirty...twenty-nine..._

"...He died on impact." She gulped, and I could hear her voice beginning to crack.

 _twenty-six...twenty-five..._

I fluttered my eyes, realizing the warm liquid that was beginning to engulf and blur my vision quite suddenly. _Shit, was I crying?_ No. I couldn't be - it wasn't something even plausible. I was Regina Mills, the Evil Queen. I killed, I tortured, even enslaved - I cursed a whole damn towns-full of people for gods sake! I didn't cry. I cried rarely, but I used to cry all the time. It was something I didn't do often, if at all. I'd suck it up, and just torture more in my rage - because I was...no I _am_ horrible. Nothing's changed within me, even if on the outside my appearance has. I was still malicious, and baleful - just as I was before the curse.

 _Oh my fucking god, I was crying. What the hell did Emma Swan do to me?_

"Regina?" I snapped my head up, to meet Emma's viridescent eyes preying down on me. They had a hint of redness, and were glossy. Mine were probably much worse - and I immediately regretted looking up at her. I watched as she scanned my tear filled eyes, and down-turned lips. I did a slight shake of my head, and pursed my lips to hide the fact that I was hurting. I felt turned around, and completely dazed. Who in the hell was I? I wasn't someone who cried over shit like this. I should've been trying to hide my scoffs and ignorance, instead.

But I was Regina Mills; and I was crying.

 _eighteen...seventeen...sixteen..._

"Why'd you tell me?" I jumbled around in my seat, becoming uncomfortable and wanting to move in any way possible. Emma stayed sat on my arm rest, her legs hanging over the side, and her feet barely planted on the ground.

"You needed to know. And I'm sorry if I crashed game night - I felt like it was well overdue.." she glanced between me, the floor and the ceiling, "it's also my shitty job." Her shoulders heaved upwards in a shrug.

 _nine...eight..._

"Well, I didn't need to know," I didn't dare to look up at her. A tear escaped, but I quickly lifted my palm and wiped it away as if it never happened. _I didn't cry, dammit._ The more I became upset, the more I became angry. Angry that I was even getting upset in the first place. I didn't get upset. It wasn't me. It was the old me. The weak me.

"Regina..." I felt her warming grasp gently on my shoulder, and her voice had that damned tone. That tone implying that I did need to know, for whatever reason. That reason can go to hell.

I swallowed, and sat a palm on my other free armrest. My healing foot lifted from the cushioned chair, and planted itself gently on the buffed floors. I felt Emma's hand slowly glide from my shoulder, and in between my shoulder blades. I couldn't see very well, as more and more tears collected and piled up. The little strength I had was used to lift my weak frame from the chair, and onto my half working feet.

 _five...four..._

"Gina, wait -" Emma hopped up to her own feet, outstretching her arms as if to catch me if I fell.

 _three...two..._

I turned to her, weakly leaning against the frail armrest. Her palms were now frantically searching for the crutches she set up no more than a minute ago - and placing them quickly in front of me. I didn't break eye contact with her, not caring anymore if she saw the glassy tears in my eyes that were heaping up by the second, "I'm a bit exhausted from our little snack trip," a forced grin was placed on my face. It was my turn to prove a point, "I think I'm going to lie down for a moment." Another tear rolled down my cheek, and left a visible trail. I was too busy using every bit of strength I had to keep myself from sobbing. _How in the hell was I capable of sobbing?_

 _one..._

"Regina, please-" she took a small step forward, and I lifted my chin. My cold palm reached out, and gripped the grey handles of the crutches. Emma's hand barely skimmed mine, and I felt goosebumps rush all over my body. I blamed it on the tears.

 _zero..._

"Your minute is up, Emma."

* * *

"Two coffee's, and one hot chocolate."

I may not of known Ruby for the longest time, but I was sure she was the clique, cocky and sluggish waitress that all diners usually had. She had the red streak in her dark hair, and the clothing that no man would ever let his daughter walk out of the house dressed in. I was worried for Granny's sake - that aged woman was the harshest one out there. How in the hell did that lean waitress get away with it?

Probably her charm. That was believable, considering August seemed to melt under her alluring gaze and flashing smiles on the daily. Or so Henry would tell me. But I had no doubt about it; as soon as we stepped foot onto those tiled floors - Augusts' cheeks were forever rosy and pink. _Ugh._

We were seated in a booth, with August and Henry on one side - and I on the other. It wasn't everyday that I got to have myself seated in sticky plastic covers they called seats, so I chose to try and enjoy it. Or at least, the best I could. The place may of been air conditioned, but it still felt as if it were mean't to be a sauna. Maybe it was all the lovesick couples that crowded the small eating house; with there entwined hands and sweaty palms. _Ugh._ Perhaps I had a bad outlook on everything, causing myself to cringe at a simple hello. But, in my opinion - when you're trying to enjoy a delectable meal in a nice cozy diner, you probably prefer not to see couples swallowing each other's tongues.

"Don't forget the cinnamon," Henry peered up at the brunette with a soft smile, as she began to set down everyone's energy fuel. She sat Henry's overly large mug before him, steam still floating from the glass.

"I would never," Ruby rose her brow, down at the young child and they shared a giggle before she became immediately distracted by the bearded man seated on the inner portion of the booth. Their eyes locked, and mine did a roll of their own. I didn't have any more doubts about the puppet, the wolf - and their budding romance. I had gotten an earful from Henry about the situation earlier, his obvious irritation shining through. I couldn't blame him, I had barely been here twenty-four hours and could gag.

August was unable to contain his grin, and watched the waitress lean practically halfway over the shiny metallic table and into his arms. I tried to shift my glare to Henry, but the poor kid was being essentially suffocated by the tilted hostess. All you could see was small tufts of his dark hair, and his frozen astounded palms. I was surprised that she somehow dodged Henry's cup of hot cocoa during the entire scene, considering she might of virtually been in both of their laps.

I slid a swift hand onto my warm coffee mug, examining the scene with squinted eyes - trying to block it from my gaze as much as possible. Ruby still had Augusts' cup in her fragile palm, but sooner or later after their hour long session of eye flirting, she finally placed the mug in front of him.

"Enjoy your coffee."

"Oh, trust me. I will."

His not so subtle glances, and his overly carnal remark sent me to the depths of hell where you just continuously gagged and cringed. For a moment, I had almost wished that Henry hadn't had ears. Because, without even seeing the poor child's face, as it was still blocked by the waitress - I could see the disgust and utter aggravation sprouting like weeds.

I saw the corners of Ruby's lips curl into a grin, that was when she finally began to lean back and strand upright once more. The relief in Henry's eyes was comical, and sent bursts of laughter to my lungs - threatening to break the awkward tension. But I kept them down, and waited for the two to stop their childish gazes at one another. August did a nod of his head, and I'm almost positive Ruby returned the gesture with a wink - but I was too impatient to pay attention and give a shit.

Ruby finally scanned over the entire table, with one more slick glance to August before waltzing away carelessly. I felt an exhale release from my lungs, and watched as Henry breathed one out as well. Augusts' gaze traveled to his mug, and I decided to get this show on the road.

"Finally got the wolf to fetch, huh?"

His facial expression went from lovesick puppy, to a bear that had just been woken up from hibernation. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Henry's puffed cheeks from holding back a giggle. August was no where near amused, unlike Henry and I. Actual children sitting in an old booth, and getting a kick out of this whole thing.

"Aw, man!" Henry's small voice piped up and drew our attention quickly, "She forgot the cinnamon. That's the second time this week!" He sounded genuinely upset, as he glared down into his cup of hot cocoa. I furrowed my brow, and August put a large hand on Henry's shoulder.

"I'll getcha some, little man." With that, he speedily threw his arm in the air, and parted his lips to speak. Henry and I knew what that mean't - but the kid was the quicker one to act. "Hey-" Henry outstretched his petite little arms, and wrapped them around Augusts' raised one; trying to pull it down with all the strength he had.

"No, no - it's okay! I can live," the child beckoned, still struggling against Augusts' strength. Sooner or later, the bearded man gave up and sat his arm back down to his side. I snuck a sly grin to Henry, and took another sip of the scolding coffee in my hand. We didn't need another preview of their puppy dog eyes, and yearning looks again - it would be too much to bare. And I was almost positive the kid would have a freak out if he was mildly suffocated a second time.

August sighed, and wrapped his palm around the mug, "Why are we here, again?" The sarcasm in his tone rose sharply, as he took small swig of coffee. "Last time I checked, you were stuck up a certain blondes ass and saving people's lives."

"Well, I guess now it's her turn, to be stuck up someone's ass," I saw Henry's eyes widen at the sudden and constant use of curse words, but I expected him to be used to it by now. He'd been with August a while now, right? The man had the mouth of a sailor, "take a wild guess as to who." I lifted the mug to my mouth, but didn't take a sip. My eyes peering down at the whiskered man.

He took a sharp inhale of breath, and traced random lines on the table with his finger, "Well, I'm guessing it's not a fellow overpaid physician." He rose a brow, and looked back up at me.

I shook my head slightly, "That it isn't. What it is, is a Mayor with just the right amount of sweet, and sass to make the Swan swoon." Say that five times fast. There was another roll of my eyes, as I explained the situation. August caught on quite quickly, but Henry sat in the shadows glancing between us with squinted eyes.

"My mom?" Henry spoke up once more, with a furrowed brow, "You guys are talking about Emma, aren't you?" I had guessed by the statement the kid had commented on earlier at the park, that he knew Emma. Or, may not of _known_ her - but August must of said something. I knew the whole affair. Henry was the one to waltz around town and make people believe, while August 'helped.' So to say. I also knew about Henry... and Emma. The whole relationship, or whatever you wanted to call it. It's a long story, but it'll probably pop around and about soon. Regina wasn't the only one Emma let her walls down to.

I glimpsed to August, without any thought or recognition as to why I did. It was more of like, silent speaking - through glances and glares. Who knew, I did a lot of random shit I never knew the reasoning to. _Damn am I a rhymer and tongue twister, or what?_

"C'mon guys, I might be young - but I'm not as stupid as you think." The kid must of thought we were doing some mind-reading telekinesis type shit, or something. Nobody had said he was stupid, maybe he was just going off of the scenery around him. But, who would blame him - we were two grown men sharing glances in awkward silence. Who wouldn't get defensive? Henry parted his lips to speak again, but instead of words - I heard a bell.

I wasn't as mad as to think it came from Henry, no. My eyes wandered, and found the entrance to the diner. The old, groaning door already swinging closed with nobody in sight. I had knit my brow together, and commenced to scanning the rest of the small area. Nothing seemed out of place, or new. People were still chatting, laughing and stuffing their faces with fresh baked pie and hamburgers.

That was until my bright blue eyes caught sight of someone smaller...shorter than the rest. Long dirty blonde hair flowing from her scalp, and falling over her shoulders as she reached and struggled to see over the counter. Granny was there, smiling down at the young girl and handing her a paper bag.

"Here yah go, hun."

The girl took the bag gracefully, and receded from standing on her tippy-toes. She wore uniformed-like clothing, such as a plaid skirt and a blue short sleeved shirt that looked o-so familiar. Henry's voice was now a blur, like it was being retrieved to the back of my head. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look at the blonde, but her back was alas turned to me completely. The palms of my hands were scorching, the broiling coffee that resided in the mug was expelling it's heat slowly, but surely. My fingers tingled, but I paid no attention - as all of it was focused on the girl, who was now skipping back out of the diner gleefully.

The rest of the world came back in to play, and all sounds that were once blocked and muffled came soaring into to clarity.

"How did you get here, anyway?" It was August speaking, now. My head turned, and found his piercing blue eyes stuck on me and in confusion. I had forgotten his question within seconds, and realized I had lost all feeling in my palms and fingertips. The mug almost slipped from my grasp, but I collected myself enough to set it carefully back on the metallic table.

I cleared my throat, and braced myself to stand up, "Ehm..good talk, guys." With that I was up, and racing towards the glass door. I heard August and Henry yelping after me, but I continued and clutched my cold hand around the doorknob. I wasn't even sure if I had turned it or not, but the door opened swiftly as well as quickly.

The fresh breeze from outside filled my lungs, and over powered the odor of grease and cocoa beans that stuck to my clothing. My head shot back and forth, scouring the multiple buildings and structures that rose from the ground up. I finally turned to my right, and saw the same plaid skirt I had recognized a few moments ago. Her skip had turned into a gallop, heading straight down the sidewalk and towards a tall woman with her hand outstretched.

"Come along, Paige." Her soothing tone, and smile made the little girl giggle with excitement. She took the womans hand, and swung the joyous paper bag back in forth in her other. My eyes darted, and captured every detail I could before they were too far away and became small specks that my poor vision couldn't make out.

There was shuffling, and the muttering of two people that came rushing out of the diner just as I had. The bell rang, and a voice spoke.

"What the hell was that about?" The scruffy voice belonged to August, who breathed heavily as if he had just ran a ten mile marathon. I didn't look, but I had guessed that Henry was at his heels - just as always.

My chest heaved outwards, and I exhaled the extended breath I had been holding in.

"..Nothing."

But it wasn't, nothing. That was my daughter.


	10. Chapter 10

Nerves raced through my veins like strikes of lightening on a stormy night; my palms wrapped tightly around the metal tray, trembling terribly just at the sheer thought of facing Regina, again. I, Emma Swan wasn't one to get nervous - but when it came to the Mayor and her complex personality, I was as jittery as they came. You could push a man at the brink of death through those doors and into my arms, and I wouldn't bat an eye. I'd know fully well that I could save this person, and take them back home to their family in perfect condition. But, god help me as soon as a perfectly normal brunette was rolled past those glass doors, I turned into a child lost in a department store.

There wasn't one nurse in sight, as I strolled down the echoing halls anxiously. I thanked every star in the night sky for that, knowing that if I crossed someone's path I would purposely get caught up in conversation with them - sooner or later chickening out on the fact that I had to go see Regina. I was being a wimp, and I mentally scolded myself for it. Ever since yesterday after I had finally worked up the courage to tell her about the boy, she was... different. _No,_ not different - she was sad. I expected some form of grief, but I didn't anticipate for it to be this severe. She refused anymore game time, and lied in bed for hours before she finally dozed off. This morning she dismissed the breakfast I had brought to her, and barely even laid eyes on it.

After two months of getting to know this woman, and figuring out how she feels and why - it was overwhelming seeing how hard this hit her. She felt things deeply, I knew that - but I guess it wasn't until now, that I realized just _how deeply_. I guess I had just taken the spoken words not so seriously, and an act of over exaggeration. But now I knew, and figured out the hard way. I hated that I was unable to be there, and wrap my arms around her in a calming embrace. But whenever I tried to talk to her, she'd be in a daze and become completely oblivious to the words I had been expressing. So I've been trying to keep my distance, and within only a few hours of being away - I needed a reason to go back.

And that was doing what I always did anyway. Bring her lunch.

The hospital didn't have too much to choose from, which always came off as odd to me. If we were to keep hundreds of people confined to a space for an extended period of time, why couldn't we conjure up something that could sooth her appetite wholly. I guess, that's what the vending machines were for - considering the snacks behind that glass were more fulling than the ones behind the counters.

Anyway, the only fulfilling foods I could find wouldn't do as much as satisfy Regina's stomach in the least bit. On top of that, I'd have to fight my way through her protective wall of healthy choices, and nutritious treats. Or maybe, she just liked to pick on me and my obsession with vending snacks. Whatever it was, she'd have to suck it up and be joyous over a dry salad, applesauce, a banana and some ice water for now. It was the best I could do. Especially since my nervous were going haywire, and if I stayed in that crowded cafeteria for any longer I would've lost my head.

My eyes caught sight of Regina's closed door, and inhaled an overly large breath before proceeding. I did a quick sweep across the numbers bolted into the painted wood. One hundred and eight, all buffed and polished for no reason at all. Other than for the looks, which _still_ boggled my mind. Why would anybody that is trying to visit their injured or possibly passed family member, pay attention to a couple of shiny numbers?

 _Hm._ I was just probably overthinking it - just like I always did.

I adjusted the cold metal tray to be placed right above my hip, so I could free one hand to locate a grip on the door knob. I had done it many times before, so there was nothing challenging about balancing a large platter on my hip bone. But something changed, and for some odd reason the hardest part this time - was opening the door. I didn't want to swing that chunk of wood open, and see a moping Regina sobbing silently in her bed. I didn't want to see her shoulders heaving up and down, and her glossy eyes finding me at her doorway, as she tried to cover up the tears; and hastily wipe them away with the back of her hand.

And she probably didn't want to see me either.

I swallowed my worry, and said 'fuck it.' My jittery palm squeezed the knob even tighter, as if it would wash away all of my anxiety and the skittish thoughts passing through my mind. But news flash, it didn't. In fact, I believe it made it worse, and I practically had to tear my immovable feet from the waxed floors. I settled to twisting the knob slowly, but gave up the idea to the thought that, it might of been a bit odd to anybody passing by if they saw a hunched over Swan, looking a bit _too_ suspicious over turning a handle.

I resolved my many dilemmas and gave myself no time to think, by whirling the knob to the right and releasing the door from it's closed grip. I felt my body lean against the now, weightless, door but refused to let it swing open with sudden urgency. Instead, I gradually pushed it ajar - the suspenseful state of the room behind it eating me alive.

Once the door was completely gaping open for my entrance, I squeezed myself and the tray through the frame and into the small cozy room. Well, you could call it cozy - but to Regina it was probably more like a prison cell she was confined to. Along with.. a friendly doctor who - I'm assuming, she hated more than her false guilt right now. The platter was slowly slipping from my grasp, so I took that as a hint to retract my other palm from the handle and back onto the utterly cold surface of metal.

I felt the urgency in my eyes, as they were trying to pry themselves from the floor and search for the one woman I came here for. But before I could let them wander, I slowly turned and closed the ajar door. The soft click of the knob as I let it turn back into place gave me the realization that sooner or later, I had to look. I didn't pick up any muffled sobs, or shuffling sheets in the whole thirty seconds I had been in the room. So I took that as a good enough reason to suck it up, and lie my eyes on the woman under the heap of blankets.

My body turned back around, my eyes locked on the meal in my hands. Why was I so nervous about something _so_ simple? I was being a doctor, it was my job to take care of people, and now I couldn't even seem to get that right anymore. How many other effects would take place that Regina seemed to cast on me unknowingly? There was already a list, and it was becoming more like a novel now. A beautifully wonderful novel, that I wouldn't mind becoming a full fledged dictionary.

What in the hell was I saying. _Dammit, Emma - look up!_

My lungs began to shrivel up from lack of air, as I had been holding my breath ever since the large inhale in the hall. I released the muggy air, and lifted my heavy head. My eyes were closed shut now, and I felt my ponytail becoming looser.

 _You have to open them sooner or later, Emma._

I filled my mind with persistent thoughts, trying to pull myself from the shadows I was caught up in. I was Emma Swan, I was tough and powerful - and I didn't giggle over Disney movies. _Shit, that was a lie._ Okay, I did giggle over silly movies and act like a child... most of the time. Sometimes I even played damn board games like it was an Olympic sport.

But there was no way in hell, that I was going to let this little problem topple over me and make me cower in my own skin. I was going to look up, and see a snoozing Regina who had every right to be upset - and had no reason to look at me and be angry. Or, maybe she did - but that wouldn't matter. Because sooner or later, she'd finally lay her sunset filled eyes on me again, and see the person who had taken care of her for weeks on end. I was her savior here, and her friend. Not even some shitty news could change that.

A loose strand of blonde hair fell over my eyes, and tickled my nose. Wedging itself between a couple of my eyelashes. _Just do it already, Swan._

And I did. The dim lighting that poured from the ceiling engulfed my vision, stunning my fragile eyes for the slightest moment, before releasing my eyesight from captivity. The heap of blankets slowly turned into a woman just under a couple covers - her dark hair sprawled out and falling over the piercing white sheets like wildfire. It was good to know that she had finally figured out a way to sleep comfortably with that pesky torso cast that was still embraced around her chest. For the first few weeks she complained non-stop, trying to guilt trip me into cutting it off - and for the first time I didn't fall for her pleading eyes. I gave myself a mental trophy for that one. But she didn't seem to find it amusing, no matter how many cringy jokes I made about it.

Her back faced me, and I could feel my hands beginning to sweat, and slip from the handles of the tray. My frozen feet started trudging quietly to her bedside, a soft shuffling of clothing following after. Scrubs weren't the best choice of apparel for sneaking, but it was my only alternative. If I could run away to the bathrooms and change into some pajamas, that'd be one hell of a job, but doctors had to be professional twenty four seven. How ironic was it, that I was a complete polar opposite to my job - yet I'm still pretty good at it?

As I came closer to her bedside, my peripheral vision could now trace out the side of her face. That was when I realized the subtle lashes that were fanning up and down in blinks. I felt my chest go ice cold, and my heart race a million beats per second. But it was too late to turn back, and return the sweat covered platter back to the kitchen. So, I endured my embarrassment and timid actions - giving into the gloom mood that was radiating from the brunette.

"Hey Gina," my voice piped up like a schoolgirl talking to her football playing crush, "I..I brought you lunch. Thought you might be hungry?" I rose my shoulders for a prolonged period of time, waiting for a groggy reply back. But nothing came, just as I expected. "Regina, c'mon. I know you're awake, I can see you grinding your teeth." I sighed, watching her jaw maneuver side to side.

I placed the metal dish on the nearest table, and folded my arms across my chest. That was when she decided to speak.

"I'm not hungry, Swan."

"Really? Swan?" I furrowed my brow, my palms squeezing my biceps in irritation, "Scoot." I was fed up with the silence, and purposeful avoiding. If she wanted to push me away, she had to do much better than snarky nicknames and false sleeping. I watched her muscles relax, and her arms and legs move - grasping onto the sheets underneath her. She pulled herself to the side, and gave me just enough space for butt room. I took it, and plopped gently down onto the silky smooth covers. She stayed facing the wall, one arm wrapped under her pillow and the other resting on her elevated side. No matter how angry she was at me, she always softened up just a tad enough for me to get my way. I still wondered why I was so skittish in the first place, look at me now. I was practically sharing a bed with the hard-ass.

I turned my head, to look slightly over my shoulder. Her jaw was still grinding away, and making my skin crawl with goosebumps.

"Stop. Grating your teeth away isn't going to help anything, Regina." I spoke softly, not wanting to get propelled from the bed faster than I got on it. Her jaw stopped, and I felt an eye roll coming along, but she held it back with difficulty. My eyes trailed down the lifted sheets, finding the two lumps that were her feet. Her cast still prominent, even through the the sewn cotton.

"You have to eat."

"Why?" Her tone was low, and I could feel the miserable feelings bubbling from inside of her and releasing themselves to the thin air around us.

I rose a brow, looking down on the half of her face that I could see, "Is that even supposed to be a question?" I was beginning to get defensive, and felt as her body tensed up. But nonetheless, she was always ready for an unexpected statement.

"I guess not." She sighed heavily, and relaxed once more into the plush mattress. I wanted to bring up Henry, but in my eyes - that was cruel. Why bring up one person who you miss dearly, while you're currently grieving about another that you never even knew? I might of been an impatient, irritated mess at the moment - but I wasn't brutal.

Silence overcame us, and built a wall between our bodies. I scanned over every little detail I could find in that damned room, before the ticking of the clock reached my ears. I watched the longest hand go around at least fifteen times, and possibly more. I wanted to rip my hair out once it crossed the twelve for the tenth time, but filled my lungs with the thick air instead. It was something I learned to do a long time ago. Whenever I was overly angry, or irked worse than a shark in deep water - I wanted to scream, yell and kick everything in my path.

But when I realized it was wrong, and freaked out in the middle of class one day - I created my own personal calming system. Something simple, and as noticeable as a fly entering a room. Just an inhale, and an exhale. It might not of been as personal as I made it out to be, considering thousands of people across the globe probably did the same exercise. But, it helped. It really did.

Just a mere few ticks after the hand shot past the twelve a fifteenth time, I felt movement. It took me by complete and utter surprise, delaying my reaction time by at _least_ five seconds before I finally decided to turn my head. A scene, conveying of a dark haired brunette and shuffling sheets was unveiled before me. She was turning her fatigued body towards me, making me question my sanity for the millionth time today. My brow knit together, as I sat and watched her find a comfortable spot on her side - now facing me fully. I could trace the tear stains that trailed down her cheeks, but she refused to even glimpse up at me. I let it be, and leaned carefully back so my head could rest against the back boarding of the creaky bed.

My eyes were unable to pry themselves from her closed eyes and rested face. She must of felt my gaze, because she immediately scooted closer to my hip - making sure the only thing I could see was her silky dark hair.

Regina was practically curled up to my side, yearning for an embrace or some form of comfort. I could feel it, the desire in her chest beaming and reaching out to me - but I was unable to act upon it. Her fingers wrapped around the loose and unraveled sections of linen, grasping them tightly in her fist and pulling herself closer until her head was resting just above my hip bone.

My lips parted, and I rose my palm - placing it gently at the crown of her tender head. I didn't feel her shudder, or react to my touch negatively - giving me the okay, and that she wasn't throwing me off of this bed anytime soon. I massaged my fingers throughout her scalp, and ran my hands through her hair; her sleek locks soft to the touch. I tried anyway possible, to sooth her tense muscles and clenched teeth. But I was never the best at comforting, so this was new. But it was a good kind of new, which was strange to me. I never experienced a 'good' kind of new before.

Nevertheless I accepted this new. Because it had to do with Regina, and her body curled next to mine. Which was a new I never expected in a lifetime.

* * *

I was the type of kid do go to a high school football game, and get bored. No matter how hard I tried growing up, sports were never my 'thing' so to speak. You could blame it on my uninteresting personality and obsession with doing other productive work instead, but I never saw a point to throwing a ball around and scoring with a goalie, hoop, touchdown - whatever. Or, maybe I was just jealous. I wasn't sporty, I could admit that. But since I've never even tried a sport besides boy scouts, if that even counts, I have never practiced and obtained the skills I always wanted and saw on TV. Such as the men running down a field faster than a car, and risking their heads just to get an odd shaped ball into a large rectangle of fake grass.

If you couldn't point out my obvious sarcasm, and prominent jealously, I really didn't find an interest in sports. Mostly because I didn't know how to be good at them. August on the other hand, well, his entire mental capacity had so much knowledge about sports, you'd think he was lying to me about being a fairy tale character.

But it wasn't until the man came knocking on my door with a football in hand, that I began to question his sanity for good. His ear to ear grin, and distinct excitement was something I normally would've rolled my eyes at. But I relished in the fact that he was finally speaking to me again. So, I let him in and oddly he decided that throwing a large ball in the house would've been better than outside. I tried to object, and explain how important it was to keep everything as perfect and neat as possible - but he just chuckled and implied, 'you've gotta have fun for once, kid.'

I had tons of fun on my own, so I didn't see any reasoning to his statement. Other than... well, maybe I didn't have _that much fun_ most of the time - but I could recall many moments. Maybe he was inferring about the time span that my mom's been gone. In that case, he was right. I didn't think there was any time to sit and play around. Considering my nose was stuck in that book ever since my palms made contact with its hard back covering.

"He's _super_ creepy," my fragile hands latched onto the spiraling ball barreling towards me. I juggled it in my palms, before finally finding a good enough grip to pass it back.

"You should've known him before," August chuckled, and shook his head - catching the ball swiftly, "his head was so far gone it might as well of been off of his shoulders."

"Before?" I questioned, stepping a few paces to the right. I was trying my best to position myself away from all of the delicate pieces of glass 'art' my mother had arranged all around the house. It wasn't as easy as you may of thought, considering there was at least one, every few steps you took.

"Before fairy tale characters learned how to banish themselves into the real world," he shrugged, giving an urged eye roll.

I watched Augusts' arm rise and lock backwards, readying to launch the ball to me. I opened my palms, and watched the spiraling terror of leather come towards me and land gracefully in my hands.

"See, look - you're a natural." I looked up and saw a wide smile spreading on Augusts' face. I couldn't help but flash one back, the muscles in my face to weak to hold it back. A small giggle escaped my throat, and I positioned the ball in my hands once more - tossing it back to the bearded man.

"I wonder why he came here in the first place," I questioned, wanting to expel that dwelling thought that had been lingering for over a day now. My eyes darted between the football and Augusts' blue eyes. I was expecting an immediate, sarcastic remark back - but nothing came. His lips were sealed.

I furrowed my brow, and caught the next silent toss with ease, "You know something, don't you?" I lifted my chin, as if it made me appear larger.

I was waiting for him to cower under my statement, and begin to mutter his reasoning about the strange man. But no grumbling came, he only swallowed his silence and opened his palms, readying himself for the toss of the ball that I wasn't sure I was going to throw just yet. I rose my brow, trying to usher _anything_ from him that I possibly could. But his stubbornness set in, and his lips didn't even dare to part and expel a small breath. The fear of saying something that he would've regretted washing her his face and taking over every inch of emotion that was there only a few seconds ago.

"August, c'mon," I pleaded like a five year old, stomping one foot on the ground. It seemed to be that I had to pull that childish card every time I needed something from someone. It was never as simple as asking, and immediately receiving anymore. "Why are there so many secrets that you need to hide?" My frail fingers gripped tightly around the ball, the leather barely caving under my grasp. My eyes darted back and forth between his, searching for any revealing response that I could feed off of.

But he kept his palms open, and the gears in his mind turning furiously to come up with a reason or a way out from the question. My lungs expanded, and I was unable to contain an over-dramatic roll of my eyes, "Whatever." I exhaled, tossing the ball half-heartily back to the hushed man. I saw a flicker of light in his blue eyes, as he came back into reality for the first time in twenty minutes. I shook my head, vexation flowing through my veins like my own blood flow; smoke practically pouring from my ears.

I began to trudge away like an angry three year old, who didn't get the toy he wanted at the store; not knowing where he was actually going to head. So instead of me walking out of my own house, with no explanation at all, I wanted to state my reasoning - the exact opposite of what August was supposed to do in the moments I had asked for an answer.

"I'm going to Granny's."

Just as I had expected, I wasn't going to step foot out of that front door. The farthest that my feet carried me was to the top of the few stairs that led to the large, painted piece of wood, before I heard the shuffling of clothing and a deep inhale.

"I have good intentions, Henry. I swear." There he was. The man who believed in me _so_ much, that he couldn't even let me walk away without an explanation to his madness. I hadn't seen that man for a while, or ever since Mr. Gold confronted him. He was quiet, and thought he had a perfectly good reason to ignore my questions and concerns as if I wasn't the important kid he just _needed_ to find two months ago.

I tried with all my might to hide the devilish smirk that was threatening to spill over upon my lips. How did I know, that walking away and exiting my own home would make him fall to the ground and plead for me to stay? Or, maybe I was over exaggerating just a tad bit. Either way, my ridiculous, two year old plan worked on the unshaven man. I turned on my heel, and faced him with a frown and a furrowed brow.

"You can hate me for all I care; but to keep these intentions good, and everyone happy in the end, you have to trust me. Some things just have to be kept a secret until it's time." I expected the hope speech, and wise words to come flowing first. It was something he was talented at, even if they were completely unnecessary to the situation. I also prepared myself for an explanation about the consequences he spoke about the other day, after Mr. Gold and his little chat, that I was purposely not aloud to be a part of. But of course, they were left in the shadows and were to stay there until the time being.

I clenched my jaw and shrugged, breaking those defensive walls down to his words that always seemed to make me understand. "I don't hate you." I sighed, biting the inside of my cheek.

He juggled the leather ball in his palms, and looked down at me with a gentle grin, "I know, kid." The silent tension that resided in the air only a few minutes ago, vanished and was replenished with the comforting and less awkward air that we usually surrounded ourselves with whenever we were together.

"August," I rose my voice in curiosity, "the people in this town..do you think they're even believing?" The doubt in my tone probably drug him to concern and worry - but he covered it well with a small smile and a gentle nod.

"Of course I do. Would I still be here, having you lug around a ridiculously large book if I didn't?" He tilted his head, and we shared a laugh.

"I guess not," I smiled, shrugging once more, "but then again, you are the type of person to invite yourself into someone's house as a complete stranger and talk to them about fairy tales." I rose a brow, and he bursted into a fit of giggles.

"Alright, alright." He rolled his eyes, and obtained a full grip on the ball. "Now, who's up for another game of 'dodge the antiques?'"

Our laughter filled the empty halls, and echoed throughout the large house. It was as if, no matter how hard I tried - Augusts' bad jokes, and ridiculous speeches always made me laugh and forgive him for whatever stupid thing he did now. It was kind of nice, depending on someone and expecting them to forgive you just as you forgave them. I haven't been able to have that with someone since my mother left.

"You're on, Pinocchio," I giggled, immediately running back into the living room and behind the large sofa. I lifted my palms, readying myself for the toss.

"Pinocchio, really?" He couldn't help but chuckle, and turned around to begin walking back to our makeshift football field that was by no means, a safe place to throw any sort of ball in the first place.

That wasn't even the craziest part of this whole mess. I was letting a man I've only known for a good two months waltz into my house and throw around a ball meant for one hundred yard fields, and men in helmets and shoulder-pads. Not to mention, there were tons of precious glassware my mother cared dearly for - that was almost ninety percent, always in the line of fire. It would be absolutely insane, of how dead I would be if she figured out what I had been up to, while she was stuck in a hospital bed unable to properly check on her nine year old son.

All I know, is even if she came storming back home, furious because we may of broken one or two of her valuable antiques - I'd still hug her as tightly as before, maybe even a little more. Because, as quick as I'd hug her, she'd be smiling down at my head full of hair and wrap her warming arms around me just as tight.

Not even a house full of broken glassware could change that.

* * *

It was rare to see Regina back into her lengthy hospital gown. She always despised the way it shaped her body, even if they weren't mean't to flatter anyone's body type in the first place. But no matter how many times I told her that, she just rolled her eyes and begged me to let her change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. I'd cave, and let her get her way. There were only rare moments in time, where the torso cast would irritate her so badly that she would resort to her gown. But that was mostly during the night, when she was tossing and turning in her bed to find a comfortable position to sleep.

She was also still very stubborn about wearing it. If the nurses, or any other doctors needed to do some form of a checkup, she'd pout like a child until she was forced to put it on. Or she'd be extra obdurate that day and they'd resort to finding me, knowing perfectly well that I could persuade her into mostly anything they couldn't. But with the gown, it took more than a please and pouted lips to get her up and moving.

So when I waltzed into the sunlit room, with Regina already sitting crossed legged in her bed - dressed fully in her gown, it was sort of unbelievable. Her head tilted downwards, as if she was examining the white bed sheets spread out from underneath her, and her hair slowly falling over her shoulders like some expensive portrait that someone was lucky enough to paint. Her tongue swept over her bottom lip, and pulled it in for her teeth to softly bite. I wondered if she even realized my presence, but it must of been obvious. A tall, gazing blonde walking into a dead silent room had to of been enough to have her brain click and recognize the sudden existence. But who knew, she was really out of it lately - and I had proof.

Earlier that day, when I tried to bring her lunch, we sat silently with her head practically in my lap, for over an hour. Just listening, and breathing. She didn't want to talk, and neither did I. Because I knew if anything was spoken, it would ruin the serenity that was lingering around us - keeping all hell from breaking loose. After a while of that, I felt Regina's rapid and anxious breaths turn to slow and calm ones. She had fallen asleep, and I didn't dare move her for the longest time, until I had gotten scolded by one of the other nurses to go 'do my job.'

 _Ha. Didn't even realize I had one anymore._

So I was forced to gently move Regina's dozing head back to her pillow, and return back to whatever the hell else I was supposed to be doing. Which consisted of sitting in my tiny ass office, worrying about the brunette that was most definitely still sleeping.

Today was the day that Regina was able to get her cast off. Which of course, was going to be snipped away by the one and only; me. I know, I know, take your seats ladies and gentlemen - it's _really_ exciting. In fact, Regina was probably the most excited of them all! Okay, maybe that was a lie, considering the last thing she wanted to do was speak to me - or anyone for that matter. But, since I was her doctor and practically the only person who did minutely checkups on the mayor, I was the first candidate. Or, maybe I voted myself - the world may never know.

This was supposed to be one of the many exciting days for her; the fact that she was being freed from something that could've killed her over two months ago. But, the circumstances changed - and the situation didn't even slightly appeal to her anymore. I wanted to exclaim the news to her, when I had walked in with that sweaty tray - but I never got the chance. After I was forced to leave, one of the nurses came in and told her the 'exciting' news. I was a little angry at the fact that, that one warming chance I had to give her some good news for once, was taken away from me. But I swallowed my rage and went on with my day, until it was time to come back and release her squeezed torso from the hardened mold.

It was now five thirty four; I had to stroll tiredly around the inexpressive hospital for five or more hours, waiting for the clock to hit the exact time that I could begin to head back to room 108. My feet tried to drag me numerous times to her door, before it was even close to time. My hand travelling to the doorknob before my sanity kicked in and reminded me where I was and what exactly I was doing.

But I was here now, with mechanical tools resting in my palms and my eyes glued to the dazed brunette that still hadn't made eye contact with me, yet. A dark blue device, with a circular blade was grasped tightly in my hand - appearing as a dangerously terrifying object used to execute people on the daily. But, the truth was - all it could do was saw through a thick cast and be placed back into an old wooden drawer.

I gave one last glance at the dark haired woman, before finally dragging my feet and approaching her bedside. I watched as her eyes traveled down the silk sheets, trying to sneak a not so subtle peak at my weapon yielding self.

"Ready?" I rose my brow, along with my arm - the semi-terrifying object lifted in my palm. I forced a soothing grin, trying to break through those barriers she was desperately holding up.

My pleading emerald eyes were not even close, to expecting her head to turn and to receive a a forced smirk back, before her lips began to part for the first time in forever. "Yeah." She sounded completely breathless, but I blamed it on the fact that she hadn't spoken anywhere near ten words for over a day. Her dark locks flowed down her back and in between her shoulder blades. She had a quilted, warm blanket wrapped around her hips and down - her legs obviously criss-crossed beneath it.

A smile broke through, that I was incapable of containing. Hearing that soothing, and calmed voice after almost twenty-four hours, did something to a person. And that something, was a ridiculous beam spread across my face that I couldn't make disappear.

"Then, let's do this," I exhaled, a soft chuckle slipping past my tongue. I set the cast saw on the delicate little table that resided next to her bed frame, and took a few more steps to approach her huddled body. I extended my palm, and she placed hers in my own. I felt her muscles tense, and her hand squeeze tightly as she began to turn her figure to where her back was facing me. Once her strong grip released my cold hand, I stood straight and inhaled a deep breath. "Just a little warning, Gina. To be able to cut this thing loose, I have to untie the back of the gown." My eyes danced upon the dark strands of hair falling onto her back.

"Why do you think I have the blanket, Swan?" I recognized the sarcasm in her voice, making me want to hop up and down in utter joy and excitement. It was also the first time, that I hadn't gotten the itch of irritation from the 'pet' names. I saw it as a sign of recovery, and growth now. Something that she used when she was healing, and was a way of showing me that everything was fine. Or that everything, was going to be okay and that I needed to stop worrying so much. Funny, how after just a short time together I could pick these things up - like I was some sort of mind reader. Hell, I should be getting paid for this.

"Ha-ha," I mocked, lifting my trembling fingers to the tied laces on the back of her gown. They were knotted in perfect bow shapes, too perfect to unlace - but sadly it had to be done. I gently tugged a the ends of the string, the loops unraveling and falling to just - long thin strings of fabric. The edges of the pulled together gown, began to relax and part ways; revealing tan skin and a thick cast. After a few shaky breaths, and nervous eye glances I finally had gotten both bows untied and the gown freed from it's binds.

My fingers wrapped around the edges of the open gown, pulling the fabric apart just the slightest to reveal the casting from top to bottom. This required the fabric, just barely slipping from Regina's shoulders - her shoulder blades exposed, and the rest covered by the plaster. She turned her head to the right, half of her face being uncovered to my eyes. She seemed to be yearning to glance over and watch the procedure, but her eyes stayed low and swept over the creases and folds in the covers below her.

My own trailed down what portion of the spine I could see, and traced over her tan skin before mentally slapping myself and reaching for the set up, cast saw. I didn't realize how badly I was trembling until after I gripped the tool and saw it quivering in my palms. If I had a dollar for every time I inwardly smacked myself - I'd be rich and wouldn't even think about having a job in the first place. Possibly even, a millionaire living in a twenty story house with so many dogs that I couldn't even keep track.

I cleared my throat, trying to collect myself before digging the blade through the many layers of wrap and plaster. Regina may of noticed my sudden hesitation, but paid no mind to it other than the furrowing of a brow.

"Here," I choked out, taking my free hand and placing it at her mid-back. I knew she wouldn't of felt it, so I pushed softly, my fingers lingering on the hard surface of the restraint. She knew what I was doing, and began to straighten her posture, inhaling a large breath and setting her hands in her lap. "Brace yourself, it's kinda loud." I warned, my eyes tracing over the side of her cheekbone I could see. My palm retracted from her back, and I passed the cast saw over - as it was my dominate hand.

Just I had suspected, she was silent. Her hair began to fall over the eye that she was using to try and sneak a peak of the procedure, so she lifted her hand and swept a chunk of hair behind her ear. I took that tranquility as a sign to begin already - as I had been standing there for at least five minutes now. I gave myself the awakening and shaking of a head, bringing myself back to my prior thoughts and objective to why I was really here.

My index finger found the power button, and relaxed upon the cold surface for a few moments before finally pressing it down and giving the saw life. Due to the overly chatty nurses, I knew they had already explained to Regina, that the saw was not going to hurt her in any form - the blade only vibrated and was only capable of getting through the cast. But I, still had this lingering feeling that it could - even after years upon years of doing this same exact procedure on small children to even people in their ninety's. I knew the reason for my anxiety, but I didn't bring it to the surface of my thoughts - leaving it left behind like the other pointless shit I conjured up on the daily.

It sounded like a weed cutter, that thirty year old men used on their lawns to make it as precise, and as pleasing to the eye as possible. The shrieking noise thundered through the silence, and I could practically hear it bouncing down the halls outside of her room. I lowered the saw to connected with the cast, watching the strong fibers break apart quickly and satisfyingly. I did the sawing, in short down and up movements, careful not to burn her flawless skin that was awaiting underneath to be set free.

I could feel the relief radiating from her body, and the tension in her muscles relaxing as she began to enjoy the soothing moment of freedom. The pressure that was being released must of felt pacifying; as she exhaled a long, drawn out breath that was being held within her lungs. The cast began to split right down the middle, exposing her hidden skin underneath. I could specifically point out the long scar that trailed down her spine from the surgery months ago, the new, healed skin, paler than her own. I knew deep down that she would despise it at first sight, but would soon grow to love it in some sort of way. As a reminder that she was still alive, and able to walk through her own front door again, to meet her smiling son.

I tried my hardest to keep my gaze on the blade, and dividing cast - but it was a difficult task when smooth skin and dark hair kept pulling your mind to other places. I especially scolded myself when Regina's gown slipped gently from her shoulder, and threatened to expose her undressed body. But her palm calmly grasped the fallen fabric, and pulled it carefully back over her shoulder - just for it to continuously slip again. So she ended up resorting to holding the dropped material that lied mid-bicep.

I swear, she distracted me on purpose.

The rest of the sawing was painful, for me at least. My wandering eyes forcefully glued to the white plaster and vibrating blade in my hand. I felt my body go hot and cold at the same time, and contemplated just saying, 'screw it' and letting my gaze travel wherever the hell it wanted to. But I kept myself as collected as I possibly could, and finished the multiple cuts and slices into the thick casting.

My thumb found the power button once more, and switched it off. The room falling silent, quite suddenly. No more weed wacker's, and piercing noises - just breathing. I listened as Regina exhaled deeply, and my palms wandered to the cast that was now basically falling apart. I grasped my fingers around a few of the chunks, and separated them from the rest, and placing them on the metal cart to my left.

Regina's hands traveled around the blanket and arranged it to better hide her exposed skin, wrapping it tightly around her waist. The now, broken, cast was revealing her slim sides. I swallowed, and glanced to her before carefully taking the largest and last piece of cast - and heedfully pulling it away from her body. She lifted her elbows, allowing the cast to slip past and away permanently from her healed torso. The gown slightly lifted, revealing more of her smooth skin and the surface of her crossed legs.

I tried, I really did, to keep my prying eyes to myself. But I was Emma, and Emma was as curious as they came. Luckily enough, I leered my eyes away before she could catch me with her side-eye glance. I recovered, by setting the pieces of cast onto the table next to me, and acting as if I was in thought the entire time.

"Just think," I forced a soft chuckle, "you're going to be able to get up and moving on your own now." A grin spread across my lips, and I lifted my head to meet her eyes that were already planted on me. She had her head turned, to be able to glance over her shoulder with ease - her bare back still facing me.

"I don't think I would've been able to stand another day in this bed," a corner of her lip curled upwards in a smirk - bubbles of joy sent flying into my stomach. I knew she was still hurting, but now, she was trying. She really was, and I could see it in the twinkle that resided in her dark eyes when she spoke. All of her strength, and all of her might was going into those words and were holding back the tears she yearned to let loose. I was proud of her, and she knew it.

"Don't worry, your majesty. I'll get you up and out of that bed in no time," I reenacted an over-exaggerated bow, that sent an even bigger grin to dance upon her lips.

She forced a roll of her eyes, "Tie me back up, Swan. Unless you'd like me to waltz down the halls half naked." I heard the sarcasm in her voice once more, causing an unavoidable smile to spread across my lips.

I almost made a joke, _almost._ But I kept my flirtatious mind set away, and walked back over to her uncovered back; tying the strings of her gown back into adorable little bows.

But between you and me, maybe I wanted to have those strings untied for just a few moments longer. Just for the sheer joy to glide my gaze over the surface of her smooth skin, and admire how flawless one person could be.

* * *

Dirty blonde hair, and dark eyes is all that my mind consisted of, anymore. It was all I ever thought about since I stepped foot across that town line, and entered the odd aura of Storybrooke. It was like this disease that only affected myself, and nobody else around me. Only because they had no idea why I was here in the first place, and had their memories sucked from their pure souls. They had nobody to miss, nobody to cry over and yearn for. They only thought about their tasks, and never questioned how they ended up here in the first place. To them, this was all they ever knew and never really dived into the depths of those devouring questions. It was more of, a video game. But it was their lives, and since they can no longer remember their old selves, this was normal to them.

A flock of birds gathered some feet away from me, and in front of the small, fragile girl with a closed fist. They approached her fearfully, inching closer and closer as their pointed beaks pecked the ground searching for the unknown. I watched cunningly, a feeling of utter embarrassment that this was what I spent my day doing. She didn't even remember me, yet I still tried my hardest to see her and torture myself with thoughts and memories that I can't get rid of. I did it anyway; because I knew that deep down that little girl had the slightest memory of a man who raised her for years before she was taken away from him.

Or, maybe I was just mad.

A giggle erupted from the girl, the birds advancing on her small frame and tilting their heads at her closed fist. She was obviously holding something that sparked an interest in them, something that made them brave enough to approach her.

Her thin fingers unraveled, and she began to toss the grains in her palm to the feathered animals. Some shared, some fought, so she continued to throw, what I assumed were seeds, to them. They seemed to appreciate her kindness, and pecked at the ground a million times per second. Not leaving one spec of food to be left wasted.

A smile manifested itself onto her lips, and she watched the birds with pure joy. I liked to think that she was still the same, with her memories still planted securely in her mind. And I was still her father, just watching her play at the park like father's were supposed to do. They were supposed to spend as much time as they could with their children, and enjoy every single second like it was their last.

That was my problem. I didn't appreciate those moments, I took them for granted and expected to be with my daughter for the rest of my life. But things changed, and so did I. I took those moments, and used them as just passing time. When I really should've been hugging her tightly, and loving every moment for that instant. I was regretting it now, just like I should be. I deserved it, but she sure as hell didn't.

I folded my hands in my lap, trying to look as collected as possible and less creepy than I usually did. I made sure to forget that ridiculous hat, that I loved so dearly, knowing perfectly well that a man with a top hat would be noticed in just a mere second. My hair was tussled, and strands curled downwards onto my forehead in the oddest way. Even without the hat, people probably still noticed my strange presence.

I couldn't of cared less. The only one I was worried about, was Grace. Her Storybrooke name was Paige, which irked me in the weirdest way. That wasn't her name, it was Grace. Every time she was called the other ridiculous name, I cringed inside.

I was stuck in this feeling that she was still her, and her name had never changed. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't come to the reality that she was different - but... she wasn't different in the way I was believing. It was all so confusing, and boggled my mind until I got sick to my stomach. So I chose not to think about it, and just continued to watch her feed the birds with a beautiful, wide grin. I missed that grin with every single bone in my body.

I either stared too hard, or too long. Sadly, it was most likely both, considering I wasn't paying much attention to my actions - because I was too focused on my thoughts. Her head whipped to the side, and her dark eyes landed onto mine. Her dirty blonde hair swung over her shoulder, so long I would've guessed that it could reach her knees. She tilted her head, and eyed me suspiciously.

It took me longer than it should have to react, and pull my gaze down to my folded hands. I wished on every star in the night sky that she wouldn't go running and screaming to her teacher, or whoever was around. That some man was being creepy, and staring at her from a park bench. It was sad that, that was my reality. This is what my life now consisted of, because I couldn't think of anything better.

 _Goddammit, Jefferson._

I didn't dare look back up, but could hear the crunching of grass under the weight of another's foot. I felt my face go hot, my fingers trembling as I tried desperately to clench my hands together, tighter.

"Hey, mister."

As if it was an instinct, my blue eyes darted up to see the blonde little girl skipping towards me. I was awaiting a harsh scolding, either from her or the invisible adult that I assumed would be chasing after her by now. But instead of a frown, and brassy words, she gave me a grin. I furrowed my brow, and gave a quick glance over my shoulder, unsure if it was I, that she was speaking to.

"Yeah, you. Do I know you, mister?" Her voice was high pitched, and squeaky - just as any other little girls voice would be. I hadn't heard that voice in such a long time, and yearned to pull her in for a hug, but restrained myself with difficulty.

My lips parted, and I felt my mouth go dry, "Probably not."

I glimpsed between my hands, and her peering eyes. Nerves racked through me, and pounded at my chest like a huge weight I couldn't carry. This was all so unpredictable, and scary - and that was saying a lot. I never got scared easily, it was mostly people becoming scared of _me._

There was no shocking expression washing over her face, or utter befuddlement. She was calm, and her eyes traveled to the ground. There was a parade of tweets, and flapping wings following like an assembly line behind her. It was crazy, the birds had followed her - obviously intelligent enough to realize that she still had treats left for their open beaks. She noticed quickly, and giggled softly at their bulging eyes. A few more grains fell from her palm, and she turned back to me with a grin.

"Here," she advanced quickly to stand only a few inches from me, holding out her closed fist. I knit my brow together, and glanced to her fist before questioning her motive.

"What's this?" I asked softly, pulling my hands apart for the first time in what felt like years. Blood rushed to my white knuckles, and I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants before resting one under her awaiting fist.

She unraveled her curled fingers, and small grains began to descend into my open palm, "You feed them. They like when people feed them." Her answer was so innocent, and unadulterated it made my heart hurt. How could such a harmless, and small girl get caught up in something so big and horrible. She never deserved to be sucked up in that curse, and taken away from everyone she knew and loved. Now she was brainwashed, and as naive as a newborn baby.

But I swallowed my sadness, and took the grains with a forced smile. Just because she didn't remember, and had a mind full of lies - didn't mean I wanted to ruin it for her. I wanted her to be happy.

My fingers wrapped gently around the crumbs she placed in my palm, and watched as she turned back to the birds that were now surrounding us. A loud giggle escaped from her lungs as she tossed a bunch of crumbs at a time, all spreading and falling to the ground like some form of snow. I laughed with her, the birds pecking at her ground like wild animals.

"Now it's your turn," she grinned over at me, and rocked on her heels. I inhaled a sharp breath, and rose my shoulders as if I was about to shrug. A chuckle slipped past my lips, and I gave into her warming smile. I rose my palm over the heads of the variety of birds practically begging for what I held. After a few moments of their swelling eyes darting across each of my fingers and knuckles, I released the grains and let them fall to the ground. Some of the crumbs wedged themselves between their feathers, and top of their heads.

Grace had a good laugh about that, and as if it was contagious; I began laughing as well. Never in a million years would I have imagined myself laughing with my daughter again, just like we used to over the silliest stuff.

Like I said, this town has magic.

* * *

"Careful Gina."

"Emma, I'm fine."

"I know, I just-"

They always told me that my glare could send a million people straight to their graves. I concluded that they were over-exaggerating, because all that stare did was silence Emma's moving lips for a few moments. Not that I wanted to send her to her grave, I just needed a few minutes of non-nagging and silence to focus on my shaky steps.

Crutches weren't the easiest things to get the hang of, considering it felt as if they were slowly but surely, bruising my underarms. Not only was the bruising difficult to manage, but so was the balancing. When you constantly have one foot in the air, it got tiring and harder to manage as the seconds passed. But it was my only choice; Emma wouldn't dare to let me rest my healing foot on the ground for even a moment. She said that it would do more harm than good, and I believed her - even as stubborn as I usually was. She did something to me, even in my worst of days, like today, she knew how to break me open and get me to listen.

I took another well thought out, step. It felt so odd to have the freedom to move my torso again, without the worry of restraints. I could breathe easier, and better; and inhale the deepest breath I wanted without my lungs being crushed. I felt free, but then again - I was still trapped. My foot was taking longer than expected, even if it had only been a day or two. Emma told me not to worry, and that I shouldn't rush it. She was right; she was always right. But being me, I sarcastically rolled my eyes at her statements and continued being angry at my slow healing foot.

One of the crutches had a shitty grip on the floor, and slid a few inches - knocking my balance off, and causing my body to lurch and save myself. I adjusted my grip on the crutch, and replaced it's placement on the floor, making sure this time it wasn't going to try and kill me.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Emma spoke, her tone rising in concern. I took a quick glimpse up at her figure; her arms were crossed in a stern sort of way, but her expression told a completely different story. Her eyes watched me carefully, and were on the hunt for anything that could possibly happen. I could see the eagerness in her eyes, that she so badly wanted to rush over and hold my waist while I trudged slowly across the room. But I didn't need it, I knew I could do it without her help - even if I so badly wanted it.

I swallowed, and looked to the tiled floor, "I'm fine." I had at least said that same exclamation, twenty times today. Or, since I had gotten up out of that bed. I understood Emma's worry, but I think I could handle a couple of shaky crutches on my own. Nevertheless, I still greatly appreciated her concern - even if I didn't show it.

These past few days, I came off as a silent bitch. Sometimes, not so silent - but.. still a bitch. I treated Emma as if she didn't exist anymore, and shut everybody off. And by everybody, I mean the blonde doctor who brought me lunch and breakfast everyday, even if she knew I would turn it down.

It was my only way of healing, other than yelling and crying - and expressing all of my thoughts and feelings like nobody was there. I'd much rather be silent, and deal with them on my own I believe. I knew Emma wanted me to talk to her, even if it wasn't about the boy. But I just couldn't bring myself to it, even if I truly tried. All I could do was cover myself up under those heap of blankets, and curl up next to her side like an infant. Sometimes I felt like I would never speak again, and it frightened me.

But ever since earlier, when the blonde came in and released me from that cast - I was finally brought back to the reality I had been missing on. Maybe it was the overly ridiculous exposing of the gown, or her dorky grin that lured me back in; whatever it was, I was too joyous to be out of that gown and finally feeling somewhat like myself again. Don't get me wrong, I was still upset; and don't ask me why I was in the first place. We all know, I was the Evil Queen. She never got upset over anything, in fact she murdered hundreds without the blink of an eye. But now, I was Regina Mills. That queen was still inside of me, but she wasn't the one who killed that boy.

I, was the one who killed that boy. Regina Mills, the owner of the excessively expensive Mercedes, was the one who crashed head on into that teen. She was the one responsible, and she was far weaker than any queen; even if she didn't want to admit it. Just because something darker than ourselves lives within us, doesn't mean we are the same.

I couldn't count myself as an example, I refused to. I wasn't different than the evil in me, I was still her. She was still me. But something happened, when the news about that boy became clear to me. I changed for a mere second, and those tears that fell upon my cheeks were different. It was a good different, in a bad situation. Some chemical reaction happened in my body, and changed the way I felt and thought - but now I was back. Or, I was slowly coming back. I wasn't fully myself again, nor did I really want to at the same time. That change I felt for those first few hours, wasn't good - nor bad. I was sad, horribly sad; but it was the first sad feeling I had felt in a long time.

I guess it wasn't the crutch that had the horrid grip on the ground, it was more like me, not fully paying attention to my movements and carefulness. I slipped again, this time it was harder to catch myself and took more energy than I had in the first place. I snuck a quick glance to Emma as I was collecting myself, and saw the panic stirring in her eyes.

"Give me your hand, Gina." I was awaiting her comment, and knew exactly how she would react. So my response was nowhere near delayed, or shocked in any form.

"Emma, I'm perfectly capab-"

"Regina."

I pursed my lips, trying to externally show her that I didn't need it; but internally, I did want it. Her gentle hands always calmed me, and managed to settle my nerves in any situation. Especially everything that had been going on now, I needed her warm embrace. Which was funny, because never in twenty eight years and more, did I ever think that I'd want someone's embrace again; other than Henry's, of course.

All of these new feelings, and thoughts that abducted my brain like a virus and managed to take over my limbs like a possession; they were scary. But in some form, they were familiar. I can't recall what kind of familiar, but I had an idea; and that scared me far more than a shitty car accident.

"Fine, Miss Swan." I snapped my head up to look at her, my dark hair flipping over my shoulder dramatically. I had a feeling she was irked by the nicknames, yet appreciated them in a weird kind of way - that's why I continued to use them. It was also funny to see her exceptional eye roll every single time the name 'Swan' rolled past my tongue.

She tried to her best to ignore the name, and strided over to my weary frame. Just as I had expected, one of her palms slid down my back and barely cradled my waist. Her other palm found my elbow and grasped it so gently you might of thought she was trying to hold a small child, instead. My eyes fluttered without my consent, forcing me to clear my throat and try to control myself.

"See, isn't this easier?" Her tone was overflowing with sarcasm, obviously trying to get a reaction out of me. Trust me, I wanted to laugh and grin - and show her just how much I appreciated her presence, but nothing came. My lips stayed down-turned, and my eyes were glued to the floor. Maybe I was just focusing too hard on keeping myself from melting under her touch, or maybe I was being a cold bitch like always. It was hard to tell anymore. She must've noticed my absence, mentally and vocally; because her voice spoke up once more, "Regina, I know you're upset.." here we go, "but you have to talk to me."

I saw that one coming. Emma was full of hope speeches, and heart warming quotes; you'd think she had her own book or something. But all she was, was a doctor who had seen one too many people upset and depressed over something absolutely tragic, and she knew how to handle them. Hell, it was her job. But as those words flowed past her lips, they accomplished to hit some nerve within me - a nerve that controls the tears that flow to your eyes and the thoughts that enter your brain.

 _Dammit, how did she always manage to do this to me?_

My eyes glossed over, and tears swelled to heavily there was no stopping them from piling over. I felt Emma's emerald eyes on me, and her expression changing from calm and collected to worried and heartbroken. Never in my entire life, had I been so emotional in just a matter a seconds.

"Regina..." It almost sounded as if Emma wanted to cry herself. But I didn't look; instead I turned my body so quickly to face hers, that my grasp lost my right crutch, and it fell to the floor with a loud clang. As I turned, I realized how close she actually was. There was practically no space between us; so my free hand lifted and wrapped around her torso like an instinct. And as if we spoke telepathically, we both wrapped our arms around each other and held one another tightly. I tucked my head into the nook of her shoulder, my dark hair now all tussled and tangled.

Tears slid down my cheeks, and soaked into her scrubs; but I knew she wouldn't mind. We had been in this situation a million times before, and she never batted an eye at her tear stained shirt.

It was like, if I was in any sort of distress - that was the moment to speak. It was the only time my vocal chords wanted to work, and turn their gears. So I took the opportunity, and spoke through my stutters and sobs.

"I killed him," my shoulders shook and I felt her arms pull me closer.

"No you didn't," her head shook side to side, her ponytail following with delay. I couldn't tell if she was trying to comfort me by saying I didn't, or she was telling the truth, "...he was dead the moment he sat in that car." She was obviously referring to his intoxication, and the driving. Which I agreed, but didn't really come to terms with the fact that _I_ was the one who ended it all. I was too deep in my thoughts, and couldn't see a bright truck heading straight towards me. I could've easily swerved out of the way, couldn't I? There must of been some way to avoid everything that happened, I was just too blind to see it.

I inhaled deeply, trying to control my sobs and tears, "..his funeral." I choked out, pulling my tear stained face from her clothing and looking up at her with glossy eyes.

"What?"

"His funeral," my voice sounded nasally, and groggy, "it's in a few days, correct?" I rose a brow, my normal self trying so hard to peak through the sorrow. Emma's eyes fluttered, as if she knew something I didn't - or was just surprised that I even knew about the funeral in the first place.

"How do you know about that?" She questioned innocently, with a tilt of her head. I stayed silent, and continued to peer up at her oddly consuming, olive eyes. I waited for her ridiculously intelligent brain to click, and when it finally did - she exhaled. Tears were still gathering in the corners of my eyes, but I fought against them with all my might. Emma seemed to shrink in guilt and despair when she saw those droplets of heart-rending sorrow, and look down at me with gloom resonating in her eyes. "Those nurses couldn't keep one thing to themselves, could they?" She took in a sharp inhale of breath, obviously irritated at the fact that the nurses who rarely catered me, couldn't shut their mouths for two seconds; even if their lives depended on it.

"I want to go." So many voice cracks, and shaky tones. I practically had to bow my head to keep myself from bursting into another set of tears.

"Now, Regina," she turned from annoyed nurse to pleading mother in the blink of an eye, her tone rising higher as each word was spoken.

"Emma," my voice shook, and I glimpsed at the ground before gazing back up at the radiant blonde, " _I want to go._ " I was no clever mind reader, but I could tell that my weak and trembling stare was getting nowhere.

"It wouldn't change anything, Gina." My heart throbbed, and I took a moment to pay attention to my surroundings. Emma and I were still closer than ever before, I grasped onto her arm with my left palm, keeping a steady balance - both of her hands, wrapped around my waist. I still only had one crutch, but it was useless right now; I was leaned into Emma's body. She was basically my support beam at the moment.

I bit the inside of my cheeks, and took an overdrawn blink before opening my eyes to the woman. A tear managed to escape, and left a trail behind as it rolled and fell from my cheekbone.

"Why are you my friend?" I forced a smile, along with a chuckle; as if I was going mad just from the sheer question. I got the immediate response I was expecting.

"What?" Emma rose a brow, and shifted on her feet, but careful not to unbalance me. I felt her grip get slightly tighter on my waist, pulling me closer even if it wasn't necessary.

I tried my absolute best to distract myself away from her divert lure, and let the tears and cracks of my voice overpower me, "If I can hurt..if I can kill, someone -"

"You didn't kill anyone, Regina."

"Emma, that's where you're wrong." It slipped, and even if she may of not known what the hell I was talking about, and took it as if I was speaking about the boy - I knew what I was talking about. I was talking about the people back in the Enchanted Forest, and the people in Storybrooke who had their lives stripped from them and thrown away like an old toy. Maybe that's why I was so upset, all of this wasn't just about some boy in a red truck.

It was about everything. She was making me question _everything._

"Gina. You can tell me a million times that you killed that kid, but I'm telling you the truth," she began to plead like a child, her eyes staring me down like a concerned lover, "you didn't." Her words struck me suddenly, and my head began to sway - as if I was light headed. I was probably standing for too long, considering I had just spent two months vacating in a bed.

I kept my mouth shut, letting Emma speak because I had basically shut her off for two days now - and I knew how it felt to be ignored and having so much to say, but being unable to speak it.

"And I'm your friend because," she hesitated, her eyes wandering, "because I care about you, and I want you to be happy. You may not see yourself, but I sure do. And I see a strong and independent woman who loves and cares so deeply that she hurts herself in the process." Her jaw clenched, and her eyes were beginning to gloss over, as well.

I stood in awe, my head still light and tilted back to fully look at the blonde. I didn't realize how passionate her words were until then; maybe because I was closer than I should've been to her parted lips, or maybe my weary thoughts were getting the best of me. Whatever ridiculous reason it was - the way her eyes glanced between my own, and my lips, was something I would never forget. Something that would be planted in my mind forever. I liked to blame that on the lack of space between us, but I think we both knew better.

The words she spoke sometimes froze me, and made me think about why I really cared for someone like her in the first place. I never cared about anybody, until Henry came into my life; and after that I never expected to care for another. This was probably the exact reason I hated to leave Storybrooke in the first place, the real world was unpredictable and sent emotions spiraling towards you like bullets that you couldn't dodge.

The corners of Emma's mouth pulled back, revealing a genuine smile, and usually her smiles were contagious - but this time I just sat and watched. Curious as to why she was smiling, and why I even had someone like her to wrap their arms around my waist and tell me that everything was going to be okay. Because after all of the horrid things I did, and are doing - I couldn't find one good reason as to why she was placed into my life like this missing puzzle piece I had been searching for.

Her eyes scanned over mine, "I honestly have no idea what I did to deserve your presence, Regina...but I'm sure as hell not losing you now."

* * *

 **(( Hey guys! I know it took forever for this chapter to get finished, but I've been crazy busy lately! I just got my first job, and so many things are happening at school! I hope you can all be patient with me, and give me time to get out the next chapters! :) I'm working hard, I promise you & will try my absolute best to keep updating as frequently as possible! Love you all, MWAH )) **


	11. Chapter 11

_(Hey my love's! I know, it's been a HOT MINUTE since I've updated and I sincerely apologize. Life has been a bit hectic and I just recently started to have the time to write again! So I hope you're all still waiting on an update... and forgive me if this is going to upset you - this chapter is all about Storybrooke with Henry, Jefferson and August. Chapter 12 is the opposite :) It's going to be all about R &E. So enjoy this chapter and hopefully I'll start shootin' more updates out like crazy for ya'll! MWAHHHH) _

I never viewed myself as a guy with a hidden talent for lurking. But after that damned curse, it was all my life consisted of. For twenty-eight years I've been Emma's secret guardian angel. Following her wherever her feet wandered, not even thinking twice about how I was thrown into a tree portal for the wholesome purpose of babysitting. But I was many years too late to objectify with my fate - I just had to suck it up and deal with it.

Nevertheless, it was what I was good at. Considering I could spend hours sizing someone up without them even batting an eye. Even the most anxious of people couldn't spot me in a crowd and realize I had been speculating on their every move for the past thirty minutes.

It sounds terribly creepy, but it's the truth.

The gears in my mind continued to turn, trying to put together the puzzle that conjured up Jefferson's presence in a whole. The man was complex, piled in layers of stories and intricate emotions that normal people may not allow themselves to feel. He was different, and usually nobody ever second guessed his bizarre actions. But this time his activity had a hold on me, pulling me wherever he went - much like Emma. His actions didn't make sense, like they were making a game of rough tugging on the strings in my mind. So I decided to give in to the curiosity and do what I did best: watch.

There was no posture that could fit well for lurking. You just had to hope for the best and watch. I stood with my arms crossed, half hidden away by the subtle shadows and trying to blend into the scenery as best I could. Then again, I didn't really match the shade of bright blue. Which sadly resided on the building my shoulder blades settled upon. People passed with ease, other than the awkward side-eye glances - everything seemed to be going well. There was nothing weird about a grown man resting in a curious stance - obviously eyeing another grown man sat on a park bench.

 _Nothing at all._

The clique top hat. Piercing blue eyes, and a trench coat was nothing out of the ordinary either. Or at least that's how it seemed. No one second guessed the odd man playing in a children's park, of course not. Jefferson was a man with tricks and seemed to get away with almost anything. He could kidnap a child for god sake and nobody would even take a second glance. Other than I, of course.

He perched himself comfortably on the park bench, like he had visited a thousand times before. He didn't fidget, or shake his leg. He had no sense of nervousness about him, or his actions at the moment. It sprung my curiosity to the roof, as did my conclusions. There was not a person in sight at the park, just dangling swings and empty sandboxes. Whatever he was looking for, it didn't seem to be there. Not like that sprouted any disappointment in him at all anyway. He was completely serene.

I nonchalantly shifted my stance, trying to become as little as possible. If Jefferson even turned his head to glance, he would spot me right away. And an infuriated Jefferson is not something I wanted to deal with at the moment - or at _any_ moment. When he was angry, you _knew_.

A presence overcame me. Not like a citizen strolling by for a nice walk to the grocery store, or a child skipping to class - it was something far more intimidating and eerie. My eyes trailed over the cement sidewalk, slowly advancing to the tall shadow next to me. As I began to uncover the unwanted company that wore an overly ironed black suit, I felt eyes staring deeply into my cowering self. I decided to rip the band-aid instead of tug, and found myself face to face with the one and only-

"It seems you're no longer the newest visitor in this town."

My body lurched backward in utter surprise, "Jesus-Gold what the hell-"

"Calm your nerves sonny, I'm not here to take your soul."

"Then why are you here?" I half-whispered, glancing between the wrinkled man and the top hat occupant.

"Have you not come to realize that you _are_ in front of my shop ?" He scoffed, gesturing to the blue building surrounding us. "Thought I'd at least come say hello."

Before I could control myself a chuckle escaped my throat as I peered at the bulky sign above the shop.

"May I ask why you're watching him?" Gold added, taking a long look at the man on the park bench. His sudden interest didn't fit his usual personality - then again nothing ever did.

"He's been hanging around this park for days now. I want to know what he's looking for." I scratched my jaw, giving Jefferson another long glare. Gold mimicked, and in silence we became two grown ass men glaring down another one. Children began to pour from the building by the park, scattering like ants. As if on cue, Jefferson whipped a book out from his bag. His eyes locked on the random pages he opened it to.

The prolonged silence between Gold and I still lingered as we examined the battalion of children and their stalker. From the crowd, a little girl appeared. Her dirty blonde hair fell behind her shoulders as she dragged a woman by her fragile palm.

I was baffled to find them advancing tremendously towards Jefferson.

He lowered the pretend book, gazing up at the two like he was waiting for them all along. Grins all around, it would seem like they were a family.

"Well, there's your answer." Gold ridiculed, nodding towards the two girls.

I furrowed my brow, bewildered by the statement. "Who's that supposed to be?" I asked.

Gold gave me a side eye glance, "You don't recognize her?"

"No, I don't actually. What's your point?" I replied sarcastically. Gold's presence in general just seemed to irk me for no good reason at all.

The older man took in a shaky breath before speaking, "Why, that's his flesh and blood ."

My every limb froze in revelation. "...She's his daughter?" I asked, unaware that Jefferson was ever even mature enough to have a child.

"That she is. Sadly though, she has no memory of it." Gold folded his palms over each other, resting them on his golden handled cane.

I took a step back, resting my aching bones on the shop behind me. Never, in a million years would I of guessed Jefferson had someone he cared for. He was an utterly careless man, looking after one and only: himself. If you asked anyone, they'd all say the same thing; the only thing he cared about more than himself was that absurd top hat of his. It was shocking, absolutely mind-boggling.

"Jefferson has a little girl..." I whispered, "well I'll be damned."

"So, who's that new guy?"

"August, or the new _new_ guy?"

"The new _new_ guy."

"Oh, that's Jefferson. Formerly known as the Mad Hatter."

Mary Margaret knelt down, picking up scraps of paper from the hard slate floor. She chuckled at my statement, "The Mad Hatter huh?"

I opened the storybook, laying it on the desk in front of me. "Yeah, he has the top hat and everything." I giggled, skimming through the pages I've read a thousand times.

An eerie silence overcame the empty classroom. I was too focused on the thick pages and beautiful illustrations that I didn't feel MM's prying eyes on me. "Henry," she uttered, "can I... ask you something?"

I lifted my head, my dark locks falling over my eyes. I didn't care to realize the expression of curiosity and skepticism that unveiled upon her soft features.

"Yeah, sure."

She lifted herself from the ground, subtly making her way over to me. She sat down in a crammed desk that resided in front of mine, angling her body so we were face to face. "Do you really believe in... all of that, Henry?" Her gaze traveled to the open book. My brow furrowed, trying to piece together her sudden disbelief and questioning.

"Well... yeah, don't you?" I asked, my pitch rising in frustration.

Her gaze veered from mine, and I watched the gears in her mind turn in panic. After all these weeks of speaking to her about this book, _these people_ in the book, I thought I had her hooked. I thought she was the first person to believe with me. Guess I wasn't the mind reader I thought I turned out to be. Or maybe that was only with August.

"...Did you... tell your friend-"

"August."

"Yeah, August. Did you tell him that I volunteer at the hospital sometimes?"

"No... I never really thought about it before. Why?" I rose a brow, reading her facial expressions as best I could. She seemed befuddled, like she was trying to put together a puzzle that was missing a piece. Either that, or she was ignoring that the puzzle was complete the entire time.

Who was I kidding, I was a nine year old kid who believed the whole town was make-believe. Maybe I was the one in denial.

MM shifted in her seat, "Nothing you need to worry yourself about. Just one odd thing after another." She sighed, dazing off. I could see the look in her eyes, and I knew. This book was just a book to her, there was no magic about it. Her face was painted into the pages, yet she didn't see it. I knew she didn't.

"Can I tell you a secret? One that you _have_ to keep?" I muttered. This was the icing on top of the cake.

"Of course."

Images of my mother surfaced, and her soothing voice echoing through the telephone. I wasn't imagining anything, it was real. She was in the hospital, just like August had said - he wasn't insane. There was something odd about the entire situation, along with the mysterious phantom called Emma. "My mothers been gone awhile," I exhaled, "but not for the reason you think."

Her brow knit together in confusion, "What are you talking about, Henry?"

My fingers wrapped around the cover of the storybook, closing it gently. I trusted MM, especially with this. I wanted it to stay a secret, I didn't want talk. Things spread quickly around this town like wildfire, and there were no firefighters to keep it under control.

"My mom..." I paused, making sure she was listening intently, "...she's not on a lengthy business trip anymore. She's in the hospital."

"So, you're telling me that August knew about your mother before you did-"

"Yep."

"and that you didn't believe him-"

"Yes."

"but then she called you on your birthday-"

"Correct."

"and low and behold she's actually in the hospital with a doctor named Emma who appears in that book."

"Bingo."

MM stopped pacing, and faced me. "Huh."

"You get it now?" I asked, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

She fiddled with her thumbs and looked to the floor. Even with her face hidden I could see her thoughts spinning in her head. I was pulling her in - and it felt awesome. "I think so."

The corners of my lips stretched from ear to ear. I felt ecstatic, because for the first time in forever I felt like I was completely sure that someone was listening to me. They _believed_ me.

"So?" I giggled, raising a brow towards her. She returned a grin, and began to waltz towards my small physique. She sat down once more, taking my fragile palms in hers.

"So..." she trailed off, her eyes not leaving mine, "I want to help you, Henry."

"Why are you stapling down the same poster over and over again?"

"Trying to get the word out, obviously."

"August, we already have five just on this side of the bulletin board."

"The more the merrier, my pop used to say."

MM rolled her eyes, and continued to staple a variety of printed out posters. A multitude of sayings were plastered on the covers in bulky letters screaming, 'Believing is the first step!' or 'Read the book! Who are you?'. To me, those sayings made me cringe more than believe - but MM insisted that they were perfect. Who was I to object?

"I'm _really_ glad you two are getting along so well," I mocked with a smile. They both shook their heads, trying to conceal their grins miserably.

"So am I." They said in complete sync, in which double takes followed. I giggled, squeezing myself between them. I lifted the flimsy piece of paper and began to staple it into the board. I could feel the tension between the two adults, basically suffocating in it. But before my lungs had the chance to crush under the pressure a new voice presented itself, catching both of their attention.

"Is this an action of desperate thinking, or is the town finally getting their heads back on their shoulders?"

August and MM whipped their heads around, catching a familiar man in their line of sight.

"Ah, Jefferson." August exhaled, "And..."

All of our eyes trailed down to the girl attached to his palm. She eyed us suspiciously, but as her dark eyes caught sight of me - she smiled. "Hi, Henry."

I hesitated, furrowing my brow, "...Hi, Paige." I felt August's eyes on me, but didn't dare turn my head to look. I was sure he didn't understand what was going on. Either that or I was oblivious to whatever this father, daughter thing was.

"Jefferson... please tell me you didn't A: bribe this poor girl, or B: kidnap her." August's sarcastic remark sent giggles bubbling up in my throat, but I kept them down.

Jefferson rolled his eyes, and glanced down to the small girl, "I'm actually trying to do something good for once - you should try it Pinocchio."

"Oh like taking an innocent little girl out for ice cream is considered redemption." August spat. MM and I glimpsed between the two men, trying to follow the point of the conversation but getting nowhere.

"Funny, considering falling in love with a blonde and learning from past mistakes is."

"Jefferson, you better shut it right now-"

"Everyone's going to have to learn at some point August-"

"Go." August groaned, irritation outspreading upon his face, "It's not time."

Jefferson shifted his weight on his opposite leg, pulling Paige closer to him. "It's never the time, August."

The awkward silence remained as Jefferson turned and waltzed away with the girl in hand. August clenched his fists, and in that moment I saw actual panic rising into his bright blue eyes. No matter how many times I told myself that he knew what he was doing, I continued to yearn for answers. I wanted to know everything, even if it hurt. What would hurt worse than realizing your mother was actually an Evil Queen in her past life? I couldn't think of anything. But there was no doubt in my mind that August could find _something_.

"Henry," MM spoke softly, "why was Paige with your friend?" She questioned. August and I faced her, with two completely opposite expressions washed over our faces. Confusion and fear.

"I...I don't know." I stuttered, glancing back at the tall man with the dark clothing. "But I guess I'll figure out soon."

It smelled of week old trash, and decomposed corpses. For such a tidy town you'd think such a simple place would smell of something much less foul. Then again, it was an alley. What more did I expect? Trashcans lined the building, some knocked over and scavenged through. Others where piled high with so much trash, you'd start to wonder if they even had a garbage corporation or not.

I checked my watch impatiently, tapping my foot on the rubbish covered cement. It was quiet, the complete opposite of the world beyond the muggy alley. It was peaceful, so I decided to enjoy the tranquility for a moment or two. My head fell back, leaning against the hard buildings surface, and let my eyes close with ease. I could've sworn I fell asleep for a moment before a groggy voice lured me back to fantasy town again.

"C'mon slacker, tired already?" My eyes snapped open, and absorbed the details of Jefferson's face. He had a grin, and his eyes seemed to pierce through the shadows cast throughout the alley. I ran my hands through my hair, collecting myself before speaking.

"What is with you and creepy appearances?" I groaned, blinking rapidly to clear my vision.

"What can I say? It's what I'm good at." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared me down.

"I'm guessing sneaking little girls behind their parents backs is something you're also really good at." I scoffed.

Jefferson squinted, as if he was perplexed by my statement, "You really think I'm that type of person? Practically a pedophile?" He asked, tilting his head. "I actually got permission, thank you very much."

"I find that hard to believe. That child, nor her parents know you Jefferson."

"Well then it seems like I'm a good persuader." He fidgeted with his scarf, loosening it from it's tight grip around his neck. "Why do you care so much anyway. Ever since I showed up you've wanted me gone."

"Because I know why you're here," I replied, taking a step closer to his tall figure. "Paige is your daughter. And you want her to leave with you, don't you?"

The air thickened, "Her name is Grace."

"Tell me I'm wrong, Jefferson." I opened my arms, trying to prove my point with ease. He seemed taken aback by my discovery - which is exactly what I wanted. "You can't take that girl."

"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do with my own daughter." He growled, his hot breath hitting my face like fire.

"She doesn't even remember you. It's basically kidnap!"

He chuckled, anger bursting through his veins, "Says the man who fundamentally broke into the mayors house looking for her child."

"Ooh, using big words now are we?" I snapped. "And stay away from Henry. I don't know what you're planning, but that kid is the only way we can fix everything. He is the key, and if you want your daughter back - if you want _Grace_ back, you better not fuck anything up."

"Who's to say everything's already fucked up?"

"What are you talking about?" I snarled.

"The kid already knows her name. A first _and_ last August. With that, you can figure out anything about that person. For Christ sake I walked in on him chatting up a storm with her!" Jefferson burst, heat rising to his cheeks in anger.

I paused, gazing at him in utter disbelief. "He...he talked to her?" I asked, fear rising into the pit of my stomach.

"You better watch that kid," he shook his head, "he's smarter than you think."


	12. Chapter 12

There was nothing subtle about a tall blonde sneaking into a patient's room close to six in the morning. Not only did I have to practically crawl, I didn't want to turn on a light and throw Regina into a panic. So I stuck to my shitty vision and trusted my palms to guide me through the under lit room.

I felt the plush covers of Regina's hospital bed, and tried desperately not to accidentally tug on the fleecy material. I glanced around blindly, trailing my hands up the mattress, scavenging for a shoulder or arm. But when there was a person hiding under a mountain of sheets it was difficult to indicate what was...what. I was sure that I had met the middle of her back, insinuating that she must've been on her side facing away from me. So I continued upwards, and eventually met something that I guessed was the ball of her shoulder. But before I could shake her awake, or make any sort of movement or gesture—

"Ms. Swan if that's you—don't even think about it."

My palm retracted from whatever place it had been with urgency. I felt heat rush to the surface of my cheeks, immobilizing any reaction to flee from my tongue. I wasn't sure if I had been the reason she was woken, or she had been laying there listening to me rummage through the room like a blind dog. Either or—I was utterly surprised to hear a response pass by her lips so swiftly and effortlessly.

"My God—Regina, I thought you were asleep." I gasped, holding my palms close to my heaving chest.

I could hear her body shifting under the covers, "Well, if someone came into your room at night grappling every crevice of your body you'd be awake, too dear."

I swept a piece of loose hair behind my ear. There were quiet footsteps sweeping back and forth in the hall setting my nerves on end. I stood in silence for a few passing moments before Regina's voice broke through.

"Are you going to turn on the light, or stand there like-"

"No." I stuttered, immediately cursing at myself for such an odd and rapid response.

"No?" I could practically feel the sarcasm radiating from her words. "What're you doing Emma?" She questioned. I could barely make out a dark silhouette sitting upright in the plush bed.

I broke from the barriers that surrounded me and took a few steps closer. My eyes weren't adjusting well to the dark, so I kept my palms outstretched a few inches in front of me. I stopped taking cautious steps when I felt the silk sheets once more. "I-I'm sneaking you out."

"What?"

"I'm getting you out of here. I mean... not for good - but," I fiddled with my hands, "you said you wanted to go to that boy's funeral. So... I'm taking you."

"Emma - what time is it? What are you talking about?" She snapped through the pitch black darkness. I felt her fingers brush gently against my bicep as if she was searching for me. I calmly lifted my palm and grasped her fragile hand, holding it close to me.

"They won't let you out until you're fully recovered and I give the okay-"

"Then why don't you just give the okay?" She asked, befuddled.

I hesitated, thoroughly examining my next response. It was the truth, but then again - it was something more. "Gina, you're not fully recovered... your foot." I wondered on and on if I was being truthful - or if I was being selfish. I wasn't sure if I wanted her to leave for good, yet.

"Emma, you can lose your job - I won't let you." Regina snapped, her hand slightly unraveling from mine.

I shook my head, my blonde hair falling loosely from my ponytail. "You have no idea, Gina..." I murmured. I realized my mistake, and began to nonchalantly clear my throat. Perfect cover up, am I right?

"What?" She spoke up, and for the second time in less than three minutes - my face rose in temperature. Thank God the lights were off. I could get away with far more and Regina wouldn't try to second guess me without proof of my expressions. My lungs expanded tremendously with air, and after what felt like decades, I finally exhaled.

"Nothing - just listen. We can go to the funeral and be back in no time." I lifted my wrist, expecting a completely visible watch to appear before my green eyes. Still dark, still blind. I inched my wrist closer to my eyes, as if it wouldn't send me cross-eyed. "It's like what - six a.m? Your next checkup would be performed by none other than I, and that's not until nine." I reassured her, along with myself. I wasn't even sure of the exact time. "Come on Gina. Live a little." I teased, a smile spreading upon my lips.

I heard a lazy chuckle emerge from her lungs, "Last time I did that, I almost died by a contraption on wheels."

I gave her palm a small reassuring squeeze, "Don't worry," I giggled, "the only contraption on wheels that you'll be associating with today, is mine - and _I'm_ driving."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

I rolled my eyes, for the sole purpose of just doing it. No reaction would present itself from her, she most likely couldn't see either. We were both two blind bats at the moment, and it made the conversation far more interesting.

"Shut up, and get up." I shook my head, taking my other hand and supporting her elbow. She did as I said, besides the shutting up part. But other than that, I didn't seem to mind. She turned her body to where her legs dangled over the edge of the mattress. Her hands searched endlessly for support from mine.

"Are you going to make me walk with those armpit crushers?" She scoffed, grasping onto my forearm. "Because if you ask me, I'd much rather limp my way out of here."

I sighed, "Unless you want to disrupt the healing process and be stuck here for an extra week, be my guest." My shoulders heaved upwards in a shrug.

"Doesn't seem like that's stopping me from leaving now," her pitch rose, implying a joke. I plopped down next to her, and turned my head to face just more darkness. It was odd expecting to see a face and seeing a large silhouette of a head and shoulders instead.

"Anyways," I dragged on, "on to the more important question." I felt her eyes on me, and not being able to see it for myself made goosebumps rise all over my body. That feeling of vulnerability was something I didn't like to associate with on any day.

"And what's that?"

"You got anything black?"

She seemed to pause, with a subtle chuckle passing through her parted lips. "Oh Emma, trust me. Black, is _my_ color."

-

My lungs had never felt so free and full of air than the moment I took a wobbly step out of that building. It was so tranquil, and the way that the morning sun hit the back of my neck sent chills down my healing spine. Never in my life had I appreciated the world more than that moment. After spending two months in that muggy ass room, I was due for a change in scenery. Little did I know all I had to do was walk outside. And I was sure that my eyes would've fallen out of socket from the amount of light that came pouring in once I exited that dark room of mine. Emma seemed to react the same, keeping one of her palms above her eyes as a shield. All I could do was look down, and focus on not falling on my ass with these crutches.

Emma's other hand always stayed in the middle of my back, as if it was supposed to help me keep my balance. It was only until we made it to her car that she gave me breathing space.

"This... is your contraption on wheels?" I muttered, glaring at the yellow colored hunk of metal.

"Yeah... it's not great, but it works." Her green eyes met mine, and she automatically processed my expression, "C'mon, don't be a debbie downer - it's cute!" She exclaimed opening the passenger side door for me.

"If you call cute a rusted block of foil dipped in yellow paint... then yes, Emma - it's totally cute." I tried to be as snarky as possible, but one corner of my lips dared to curl into a grin.

Emma made her way around to the drivers side, "You know it's cute. Get in."

I didn't complain about the drive, or how long I sat in the same position in that damned passenger seat. I refrained, because without that ugly contraption I wouldn't have gotten to that funeral.

Trees passed, along with houses and the clouds in the sky. I never had the time to sit and enjoy the beauty behind the glass before. It was always business, getting Henry to school, feeding Henry - screaming at someone. _Damn, I was a bitch._ Not that I wasn't anymore, I was more of a subtle version of myself. One that had been stuck on a stiff mattress that smelled of latex gloves and plastic whilst I ate nothing but a diet of shitty hospital food and crushed ice. It was terrible, but I think I learned to appreciate things far more than usual.

Yeah, I had almost died a thousand times before. Almost executed once, actually - but I never talk about that. This time, though, it felt _so_ different. I couldn't magically heal myself, or run away into a forest of mystical creatures. Or hell, make a deal with Rumpelstiltskin himself.

I was in the real world, with real people. There was no magic here, just life or death. As soon as I had passed that town line and entered the dangers of... _here_. I was no longer safe in the first place - I let my mind wander far too long and wide. I had never really thought of the fact that this life was so much more different than the places I knew. I always imagined it to be the same, dark and boring. I came to realize though, that it was hectic and there were so many more emotions than I was capable of feeling. I had felt pain before, but this kind of pain was new. It wasn't just physical and emotional. My senses were numb, _I was numb._

I was weak now, and I despised the fact. My hard shell had crumbled away and dispersed itself among the air. I was softer, and as we pulled up to that building - I realized just how soft I had become.

"You sure you still wanna do this, Regina?" Emma's voice drew me from my thoughts.

I nodded rapidly, glancing over to her perturbed face. "Yeah, I'm sure." Her eyes left mine as she turned the car into a space with ease. People passed in clumps, other than the rare few who were alone and sobbing. My heart ached with each person that passed by the car. I could see their bloodshot eyes and the tissues that were squeezed in their fists. _This was all my fault.  
_  
As Emma turned the ignition off, I felt the silence cower over me and consume me wholly. I felt her prying eyes on me, and could sense that she knew I was doubting myself. Who was I kidding? I didn't realize how hard it would be to get out of that car and waltz into a building. Fear caressed my bones, wrapping itself around my heart and brain. Two cars, one death. The images kept flashing in my mind, reminding me of what I had done. Or what I thought I had done. _Ha_. If only my mother could see me now. If only _the town_ could see me now, weeping over a person I never knew.

But sitting there, seeing those people with her drawn out frowns and sullen eyes - it made me think more of how they left and less of how I did. Emma could see right through my dark eyes and tell exactly what I was thinking. Like there was some book of my life printed out on my forehead.

A warm palm wrapped gently around my wrist pulling me from my daze. It was Emma. _Of course_ it was Emma.

"Let's go." She whispered, giving me a tender grin. I returned one as well, only with less energy. I watched her get out of the car and cross to my side. Her blonde curls bouncing with every step. I grasped onto the bitches they called crutches as she opened my door. In silence she helped me out, and after a few unsteady steps I finally began to get the hang of murdering my armpits. Once again, Emma's hand found the middle of my back like I some sort of escort.

We followed the crowd like we were all one battalion of warriors in black. I felt everyone's eyes on me, the woman with the fucked up foot who can't even walk on her own. I had the lingering thought that maybe, just maybe they had no idea who I was. It was an open funeral anyway - for those who barely even knew him were welcome to walk straight in without hesitation. But I knew better, and so did Emma. That's probably the reason she tried to talk me out of it at first.

Old eyes, new eyes and even young eyes were on me. Stuck like superglue as their minds wheeled around the thought that, ' _that was the woman in the crash. She's the reason he's dead.'_ I couldn't help myself but glance around as if I was a deer in the headlights. I felt Emma's hand grip just a tad tighter as it traveled towards my waist. I took a quick look up at her, each of us catching the other and locking into a stare. She was speaking to me, but through expressions and eyes.

 _So many damn eyes._

The pavement felt slick, like I could fall at any moment and Lord knows I didn't need anymore attention on myself. We approached the steps, so I instinctively leaned into Emma for some support. Her palms found my waist and my elbow. I had no trust for the hellish walking sticks, completely believing that they'd fail me and send me right back down to the cement. Luckily, they decided to let me live to see another day.

The wooden carved doors were wide open, accepting any visitors whatsoever. The room inside was dimly lit and echoed with calming music. I had no idea what I expected in the first place, but this wasn't it. It was too dull, too sad. There were rows among rows of seats, some empty and some overflowing with people. As soon as I entered, flocks of eyes targeted mine. The tall blonde accompanied by a short brunette that could no longer walk on her two legs anymore. Yeah, that was me and everyone knew. Emma pushed me on wards, and once I veered my attention back to where she was leading me - I knew exactly why.

A dark colored, wooden piece presented itself at the very back of the building. The top half was opened, but we were too far to see what lied inside. I was smart enough to realize that there wasn't some prize, some possession that they were idolizing - it was him. The man that drove the bright magnificent red truck. It used to belong to him, he used to belong to this world before I came into view. We took at least five more steps before I could see the curls of his hair. His hair was brown. I wondered if his eyes were the same.

Five more steps.

His skin was pale, no imperfections. You wouldn't believe me if I told you he had been in a horrific crash just two months ago. I could see his complete upper torso, the suit that he wore fit him quite nicely. _Like it was made for him._ Of course it was made for him.

A red tie. How ironic.

Emma's fingertips wrapped around my shoulder blade, I could see her blonde hair whipping with her head as she took quick glances at me. She could see him, too. I wondered if she had seem him before - right after the crash. She was a doctor, she was on my case, of course she had.

His lips were a pale pink, downturned. Did I expect to see him smiling? His fingers were laced together on top of his stomach, his fingernails cut short. Is this was a normal person looked like? They were so calm, so rested when they were no longer there. They were no longer a threat to anything, or anyone. I was alive - I was still this threat. This _threat_ to everyone in this room.

He was their brother, their nephew, their _son_.

 _Henry_.

My breath hitched in my throat. More flashes. His truck was right in front of me, how did I not swerve? How did I not react? Did I see his face before? His hands gripping the wheel, watching me wide-eyed.

I had seen him alive, hadn't I? In his breathing, living flesh. A tighter grip, it was Emma. She always seemed to be the person pulling me from these thoughts. Always.

"Regina." A whisper, just barely. "Regina, are you okay?"

My eyelids fluttered as I was released from my captivity and back into the dim lit funeral I had begged to go to. He was there, just in front of me. But was he _dead_. My head snapped to look at her, those dazzling green eyes. No response danced upon my lips, so I turned away from the boy. I had seen him, and I wanted to go. I wanted to go _home_.

"Gina..." Emma murmured. I faced the crowd of men, women... children. As if on cue they all glared back at me with tear swollen eyes. I wasn't going to cry, or scream and lash out like that was my own brother in that casket. I had no emotion - I was numb. Not like the numb you felt when you fell asleep on your arm overnight. It was a numb that had no feeling. Just nothing.

That was when the whispers started. Whether they were real or not, I heard them. Children pointed asking, 'Who's the strange woman with the walking sticks?'. Women leaned over to their husbands or girlfriends and started to whisper secret nothings. Then there were the people that just sat and stared, or kept bawling through the utter silence.

This was the Enchanted Forest. This was the multiple times that I killed without doubt, killed with towns full of people sitting their watching. Their red eyes staring me down, their weapons drawn. But nobody would do anything. Why hadn't they done something? Sometimes I wish they would've. Back there, in that Forest - I was a different numb. An evil numb that couldn't be felt, it was just _there_.

It was like two photos being switched back and forth, and I couldn't handle it. Worlds were colliding when they weren't supposed to. So I did what I always did best: flee.

I think I walked faster than I ever had before on those damned crutches. I seemed to fly, to the point where they couldn't even catch up. I slipped, tripped and stuttered with my steps. Emma's whispers turned into troubled shouts, but they sounded so far away. Like I was in an endless tunnel, and these people were the walls. Emma was the echo. I was steps away from the door, but my anger was rising steadily. The crutches made too much noise, too much clatter. They slipped and stuttered - so I threw them away. My limp, prominent.

It seemed that the numb feeling only effected parts of my body - or more definitely, my brain. Because with each grueling step I took towards the outside world, my foot seemed to be aching with pain. As if my cast couldn't hold out the dangers of the world, the world that was pricking my foot with needles. I clenched my jaw, inhaling a sharp breath through my teeth.

This was nothing, how could I limp over _this_? I was the Evil Queen, I endured so much pain I couldn't even feel it anymore. How could I feel this?

I heard the gentle thumps of footsteps advancing towards me. I stumbled down the stairs, maintaining my balance nonetheless. I began to slip on the loose gravel below me, there was no way I could've picked up my pace. I was basically immobilized, like I had always been for the past two months. I wanted to be _free_. I wanted to get rid of all of these casts, drive back to Storybrooke and see Henry. But this pesky foot had other plans, and slipping on gravel was one of them.

"...Re-gina," Emma stuttered, she wasn't too far behind me. I heard her fragile palms wrapping around the metal crutches, picking them up from the floor. My feet continued to move, but not as quickly as I implied them to.

There was crunching behind my, feet on rocks, and a warm hand barely skimmed on my shoulder. "Regina, please stop-" My body whipped around, almost tumbling to the ground in the process. Emma's fluorescent olive eyes consumed mine, wide in terror and fear. My body leaned to the side, trying to ease any pain I could from my foot. Our lips parted at the same time, glaring at each other soundlessly.

"I-I did that to him," I faltered before I had even realized I spoke. Emma's eyes fluttered, shocked in some sort of way. "I killed him, Emma-" My pitch rose and fell, cracking within my words.

Her thin fingers unraveled from the crutches, letting them fall to the ground in clacks and clanks. As quickly as they let go, her arms were pulling me in. I crumbled, resting into her embrace like a child. Vulnerability wasn't my forte, I felt exposed - but Emma didn't seem to care.

"You didn't kill anyone, Gina-"

"No, Emma - that's where you're wrong." I spat, shaking away from her grasp. "You're so wrong." I muttered. She glared at me in confusion, but I kept my lips sealed. That was the closest I'd ever get to dropping hints - which I shouldn't have done in the first place.

"Let's go sit." Emma nodded.

-

The wooden bench was only yards away from the funeral itself, drawing my attention every few seconds. Emma sat next to me, practically attached to my hip. I shrunk under her fifty yard gaze, and felt my lips tremble with each breath.

"What did you see in there?" Emma's voice came in a whisper. I glanced up to her with tear swollen eyes. There was not a moment in my life where I had felt more under the headlights. That boy residing lifelessly in that building had changed me - more than I believed I could be changed. He made me _weak_. He made me think that every little thing in the world should be felt, with tremendous heart.

"...Nothing," I muttered, my tongue sweeping over my bottom lip.

Her hands tangled in mine, "That's okay... you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." She exhaled, blowing thin strands of hair from her eyes.

The bench creaked under our weight as Emma shifted closer to me. Who knew that was possible. Her shoulder pressed gently into mine, caressing my body in warmth and serenity. The wind swept through my dark locks and filling my lungs with fresh, cold air.

I felt my neck weaken, and my head slowly begin to lean to the side as if on instinct. I gave in, letting my cheek rest on the surprisingly tender shoulder that belonged to Emma. I felt my lips part slightly, "I just want to see Henry." My voice spoke, hoarse but still present.

My gaze traveled back to the dark building who's doors where now closing off to the public. The last of humanity left with their heads down and their shoulders slumped. _That boy was officially gone.  
_  
"You will, Regina. I promise."

The crosses on the doors seemed to glisten under the sunlight.

-

Her worn out feet dangled over the edge of the mattress. Now that she had the freedom to sit instead of lie down 24/7, she much preferred to sit. Hell, she would probably sleep upright if I wasn't there to say no.

I sat her things next to the bed, just in case she ever needed to get something. Her black attire was folded neatly, as if she hadn't worn it just twenty minutes ago. She had been quite silent on the way back, and I assumed it wasn't because of my terrible looking automobile. So I didn't speak either, there was no need for a conversation when I already knew exactly what she was thinking.

I lifted my wrist, this time I was able to read the clock clearly with no strain. "What did I tell yah, 8:23 a.m." I grinned, glancing up to her relaxed figure. She gazed back at me with a dazed look in her eyes, like she was studying me.

"...Thank you, Emma." I played those words over and over again, on repeat in my mind. Her subtlety was mesmerizing, just like the way her words flowed swiftly from her lips.

I paused, staring deep into her dark eyes, "No need to thank me, Gina." The corners of my lips curled into a grin. After a few moments of undisturbed silence, I broke it. "So, how about a marathon of... Pirates of the Caribbean?" I trailed off.

A chuckle escaped her throat, "Really? Pirates?"

"Yeah... there's something humorous about them." I shrugged, popping in the movie swiftly.

"Aw... does Emma crush on pirates?" Regina rose a brow, teasing.

I shook my head, plopping myself next to her with a gentle hop. The bed shifted, but soon settled with a few creeks here and there. "Funny."

"I know I am, honey. You don't need to remind me." I rolled my eyes, putting a finger to my lips.

"Shut up and watch the movie." I giggled.

"Oh, sorry - didn't mean to tear your puppy dog eyes from the screen."

We both shared a laugh, focusing ourselves on the tiny hospital tv that hung in the corner of the room. I familiar warmth enclosed upon my left shoulder, and following along with it, dark hair sprawled out like waves cascading down my bicep. My green eyes took a rapid glance where they found Regina's gentle head resting carelessly.

My heart fluttered. _Of course_ it fluttered. When did it not? It seemed like that's all it had been doing lately. The only thing it _knew_ how to do.

 _Ha_. If only I had been falling for a pirate - a clumsy, greedy pirate. I wouldn't be in this situation, my heart wouldn't feel like it was about to jump into my throat and I wouldn't be potentially losing my job for a brunette who i've barely known for three months.

Nevertheless, I was here - and I wasn't falling head over heels for a pirate who would call me 'mate' and have a hook for a hand. And I didn't really care all that much. I would take a squeaky hospital bed and an injured brunette over a dirty pirate any day.

( I hope you guys are still enjoying! I'm really happy that I get to write more now, and I actually have the time to write. Keep leaving my feedback, and letting me know if you're actually enjoying this story! MWAAH )


End file.
